


In love with the Wrong Queen

by Uthizaar



Series: The Other Roy Harper [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: ARGUS, Arrowcave is real, Blood and Violence, Complicated Relationships, Dreams and Nightmares, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insanity, Jealousy, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Mirakuru, Secrets, Slow Build, Spies & Secret Agents, Spoilers, Team Arrow, Unresolved Sexual Tension, sad roy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 49,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uthizaar/pseuds/Uthizaar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically Oliver/Roy because there isn't enough! Well...eventually Roy/Oliver. A very slow burning story, be warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I said above, Oliver/Roy if their relationship was to become more than mentor and student. Based off the TV show rather than the comics since I can picture Colton Haynes as Roy easier etc. All the usual caveats about copyright ofc, I don't own anything! Enjoy :)

There were times when he was alone; or just drifting off to sleep, that Roy Harper thought about the Hood. At first it was innocent enough, his mind playing back the archer’s precise shots, his strong solid build, his aura of confidence and barely concealed rage. It was only later that Roy began to feel the swooping feeling his stomach, the excitement, almost un-controllable giddiness when he imagined the rescue again. During his late night fantasies of running through the city with the Hood just ahead, Roy began to realise that his admiration of the vigilante had become focused more on the way he had stood, the obvious muscles that covered his chest and tight leather enclosed arms. Roy flushed hot when he remembered the nights when the fantasies made him hard; desperate for release. He would reach under the bed clothes and just pound it out, furiously and fast, his seed splattering the covers, silently moaning as he came, whispering ‘the Hood!’ over and over as his heart slowed down. Eventually the fantasy images of the vigilante weren’t enough and Roy started browsing the web of pictures of muscle bound guys that Hood might look like. He wasn’t proud of it and he never thought about what it all meant. He certainly kept it a secret from Thea, even if in their time together he thought less about her and more about the strong hooded hero…

He was out in the alley behind the club, leaning against the wall, gasping for air. He had been making out with Thea in the manager’s office; her hands caressing his shirtless body as he lent over her. Suddenly the only images flashing in his mind were of the Hood. He had been slowly getting aroused as they kissed but the tightly muscled men of his late night sessions popped into his mind’s eye, making him instantly hard. He began to grind against her, his eyes closed as he imagined the archer burying his thick shaft into Roy’s tight ass. Without warning he shot his load, his tight briefs filling with his cream, panting loudly, softly murmuring ‘the Hood!’

Thea looked up at him, unsure of what she had just heard, before pushing him off. ‘What the hell, Roy?’

He turned away from her, looking out over the balcony. ‘Sorry,’ Roy muttered, ‘I guess, it’s just been a while.’ 

**Interlude**

Roy looked up from Bronze Tiger, his hand a bloody mess, though it wasn't his blood. He heard the Green Arrow yell his name but paid no heed. All he could think of was punishing the mercenary. Roy felt the archer come closer and then pulled him upright, tearing his eyes from Bronze Tiger’s barely conscious form, Roy found himself staring into Oliver Queen’s green eyes. The archer had pulled back his hood, removed his mask and disabled the voice distortion. Roy gulped; his mind racing even as Oliver reminded him about Thea, about everything he should be feeling for her, and not him, her older, hotter brother. _Oh shit!_ Despite the tension, the shock of it all, Roy felt himself harden. Swearing silently he ran over to the container and ripped a hole in its side. 

Boom!

Afterwards, when the smoke had cleared and the dust settled, Roy began to think what the revelations meant. How was he ever going to look Thea in the face again? Did she even know? He walked home sullenly; thinking back to the times he had met the Hood, the dark alleyways, shadowy buildings, the close confines of the pipe station where the Hood, err Oliver, had stood right behind him as he bent over, subconsciously clenching his butt cheeks as his cock drooled, begging for contact with the archer’s…Roy shook his head, trying to clear the erotic image and forget all those fantasies with the Hood, who was Oliver. _Oh god, what am I going to do?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the follow up. Not sure if I'll continue on with the fic; I'm writing it when the mood takes me, so we'll see. Thanks for reading :)

It had been a few days since Oliver had revealed himself to be the Hood, Roy still went into work, although he avoided contact with Thea. He left the room when she entered, deliberately looked away when she stared at him with questions and confusion in her eyes. It wasn’t until he got a message to come in early on a Friday morning, when the club was normally empty, that he realised he had some serious explaining to do. Especially since he hadn’t returned any of her calls, refused to open the door when she had come over the other night; even though he still watched her get into her car and drive away without being harassed. He might have a major crush on her older brother but that didn’t mean he didn’t care for her. Of course the fact that he didn’t even think about her when he jerked off these past few days was evidence enough that she was rapidly fading into the background. And he’d been a lot more active this past week, what with the stress of finding all this out and the fact that he had met Oliver several times in the club. Roy got an almost instant erection at the very sight of Oliver’s shining eyes connecting with him, their shared secret almost making him spurt right there. Combine that with his even more erotic late night fantasies and dreams and Roy was surprised he was even able to walk when the older man was around.

 

When he arrived at the club Thea was nowhere to be found; instead Oliver met him in the back alley with a smile playing about his lips. ‘Roy, there you are. Come on.’ Roy nodded, feeling his jeans tighten as his cock swelled in response to Oliver’s closeness as he guided him into the dark club. Roy gulped and willed his cock to go down. Oliver led the way through the darkened club and Roy couldn’t help but eye his firm buttocks encased as they were in his suit pants. ‘Roy?’

 

‘Huh? Oh.’ Oliver had opened a security door and was waiting for him to go through, and there he was ogling his boss and mentor. _Oh god._ Thankfully Oliver seemed pretty oblivious. He went down the stairs into a well lit basement full of the Arrow’s tools of the trade; glass cases with his bow and arrows, the infamous green leather suit, rows of metal tables covered in scientific equipment and blinking screens arrayed near the back. So this was it! _The Arrowcave! Ok, that's a pretty lame name…_

 

But there they were; waiting for him; Oliver’s strong, somewhat imitating, bodyguard stood beside the scientist slash IT girl who worked in Queen Consolidated. She looked at him nervously before reaching out to shake the offered hand. Once introductions were made, he looked back at Oliver waiting for instructions. The Arrow moved past him into the center of the room standing beside Diggle as they spoke quietly about a developing situation. Roy hung back; not shy exactly, but unable to look away from Oliver, unable to believe that he was actually here. It was the realisation that had he not been infected with this so-called ‘miracle drug’ he would never have met the Arrow; never know who it was under the hood. It was all so much easier when he could just imagine that the archer, the hero, was some virtuous young hunk Roy would never be with but that he could always fantasise about. 

 

Felicity watched as Roy stared at Oliver’s back, glancing down to see his fists clench and unclench. She wondered whether this was some unknown side effect of the mirakuru or was the guy simply always this wound up. She was about to say something when Oliver called her up to the monitors.

Roy felt Felicity’s gaze on him as she swept by; she was a sharp one and from the way she looked at Oliver it was obvious there was something going on. Roy didn’t like to admit the jealousy rising in his chest and he stomped down on the feeling, turning it into anger; his muscles tensing as he clenched his jaw. ‘Roy?’ he looked up to see Diggle turning towards him, ‘You up for a mission?’ Roy nodded and moved up to join them; standing somewhat closer to Oliver than necessary; his arm brushing against Oliver’s as he leant towards the monitor. _Oh yeah_ , a tingle ran down his spine as Oliver unconsciously pulled away. 

‘There! Wait until after dark and meet back us here, Roy.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sexy Roy/Oliver ahead! Mostly Roy.

Roy turned over in his sleep; the sounds of sirens drifting down his street until they were lost in the darkness. He half awoke, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his naked body into the pillow lying beside him. His strong arms wrapped around the fabric, one leg hitched onto it, unconsciously humping it in his sleep. Dropping back down into the realms of dreams, his eyes began to twitch under their lids.

 

He was in an empty warehouse, the Arrow paced in front of him, his hood drawn up and his voice distorted by the machine held in one hand. Roy’s vision blurred and the Arrow faded out to be replaced by Oliver. The older man was still dressed as the Hood, his head bare except for the dark paint around his eyes, hair buzzed short. Roy approached him, dressed as he was in his red hoodie, unzipped; his grey t-shirt hugging his body. The Arrow reappeared and placed a bowl of water in front of him. ‘Slap it!’ He commanded. Roy hesitated, looking at the bowl and then to the Arrow. 

‘Why?’ He huffed out. 

The Arrow moved with speed and pushed Roy against the wall. ‘Just do it!’ 

 

They were close now, thigh touching thigh, Oliver pinning one arm above Roy’s head, the other tucked between their heaving chests. Roy swallowed as he felt the man’s hot breath against his skin, seeing the fire in his eyes; he licked his lips slowly, his cock stiffening as Oliver pushed against him. Their cocks rubbed against each other; Roy’s trapped by his tight fitting trousers and Oliver’s by the constricting leather of his suit. Roy freed his hand from their chests and used it to pull Oliver closer to him, his hand curling on the man’s firm buttocks. Roy buried his face in Oliver’s neck; kissing, sucking, licking the sweet flesh of his hero. Oliver responded by grinding into Roy and they generate a rocking motion, pounding against each other, moaning at the top of their…

 

Another siren. 

This one passed close by the room; close enough that its red and blue lights shine through the partially closed blinds. They illuminated Roy’s waking form. His sweat-streaked, naked body wrapped around a pillow, moaning gently as his dream made him hard; he ground against the pillow, entering the half conscious state of not quite awake. He heard Oliver’s name leave his lips as he relived the dream just gone: the feel of Oliver pushed against him, the strength in his arms as he pinned him against the wall; the firmness of Oliver’s butt; the glory of pressing his cock against Oliver’s. The sweetness of the man’s flesh; so real he can still taste it. 

Roy is awake now and hard; his cock tenting as he pushes off the sheets; throwing an arm behind his head he wastes no time; pulling all the covers away from himself, until he sprawls across the bed glorying in his naked body. He conjures up his fantasy of Oliver, the recent dream weaving into his imagination as he grasps the shaft. Soon he is pumping furiously, his half open mouth gasping as he imagines Oliver’s warm body beside him and not a sweat covered pillow. And then the wave flows over him, the pleasure more intense than anything he has felt in a while; the dream had made it so real, he moans as he cums; Oliver’s name yelled out as he arches his back and thrusts his hips into the air.

 

It is only later that Roy felt some guilt; a little remorse that the man opposite him, teaching him how to fight with more than brute strength, was the focus of these late night fantasies. It still didn’t stop Roy from admiring the view when Oliver did the Salmon Ladder shirtless, although Felicity kept throwing him these odd stares…


	4. Chapter 4

Roy was angry; he was so angry all the time. It made him clench his jaw when Oliver passed him in the club, it made him grip tight to the tray he was inevitably holding when Oliver not so subtly touched Sarah in public; it made him scowl fiercely whenever he thought of them together. The rage and the jealousy churned furiously inside his stomach no matter how hard he clamped down on it. 

Oliver was not unaware of Roy. Of the lingering gazes sent his way, the hunger infusing those sparkling eyes. He shrugged it off as mere hero worship; after all it had only started after he had revealed himself to be the Arrow. Nonetheless Oliver tried to limit his interactions with Roy when he could, avoiding him at work, only talking to him when necessary, including him in their Arrow ops when he was absolutely needed. Oliver failed to realise that this only made Roy angrier, pushed his buttons, turning his secret desire into a dangerous, all-consuming hunger.

Roy sat sullenly in the underground HQ, his hand wrapped tight, the bleeding staunched. The others were away from him, talking in low voices as they occasionally glanced at him. Oliver was angry with him, Sarah was a little on edge and Felicity looked scared. Roy thought that when they went on missions he could use his new strength; unleash some of that anger in him; use the rage to fuel him, give him an edge that even the Arrow didn’t have. Oliver didn’t do that anymore though: they were meant to leave the criminals alive instead of meting out their punishment. But being honest with himself, Roy knew that this was only the surface reason he gave Oliver. 

Roy had never been very good at approaching people; sure he was good looking, but that only got him so far. He didn’t trust people, couldn’t trust them, so his relationships just broke or they drifted apart. He didn’t know how to hold it together without exposing his weaknesses. Going out with Thea had been the longest relationship he had had, ever. But even that was faltering. When Oliver told him that he needed to end it with his sister, Roy looked into his eyes, searching for a sign, for anything that might suggest there was more to the order than mere brotherly protection. He didn’t find it; all he saw was the same concerned look that everyone else had given him for the past few months. He huffed to himself and nodded reluctantly.

Roy felt like a lead weight had dropped into his stomach as he watched Oliver walk over to put an arm around Sarah. Roy bowed his head as he felt tears prick the corner of his eyes; he couldn’t let them see this so he slid off the table and shouldered his way past Diggle to enter the club.

There was a rowdy bunch of college kids in there mixed in with the regulars. Thea hailed him from the bar and pushed a tray of drinks into his hands. He opened his mouth to speak to her, but she just wrinkled her nose at his lack of work clothes and pointed him at a group of jocks. Roy sighed and began the night shift, thinking about what Oliver had said. He knew he had to break up with Thea in such a horrible, awful way that she’d never want to see him again, never want to call, never want to speak about him. Words alone wouldn't convince her: he had to show her he didn't care about her, didn't love her. In between serving drinks he cast his eyes across the rolling mass of people trying to find a suitable match. His eyes hovered over a mildly attractive blond bent over a table as she spoke to a group of grabby football players; she was grinning lazily as they all but groped her in plain sight. Roy knew she’d be perfect.

As he took a tray of drinks nearby he glanced over again, trying to catch her eye. Instead his eyes skipped past her to a sharply dressed guy leaning against the bar. He was in his mid-twenties, clean shaven, his tight fitting shirt hugging the rippling muscles of his arms and barrel chest. His flashing blue eyes connected with Roy who had just stopped moving, his cheeks flushing and the unstoppable pressure of a bulge forming in his pants. He put down the tray and rushed back to the bar. The guy followed him over, leaning forward as he ordered another drink. Roy nodded quietly and made it up, glancing from left to right to see if Thea was around. He saw her exit the office and make her way down to the dance floor. He looked back up at the stranger’s cerulean blue eyes. He dipped his head close as the man whispered softly to him. An offer made, the gentle press of lips against his ear, the shuddering of his heart gave him away too easily. Roy nodded, too eager, too hungry to deny it any longer.

Thea had been making the rounds, checking in on stocks, throwing out customers a little too rowdy, redirecting bar staff and searching for Roy. She had seen him not ten minutes earlier at the bar, but he was nowhere to be found since. In any case they were running out of the tall glasses and everyone else was too busy. She nodded at the bartender and made her way back to the office and supply store. As she opened the door there was a rattle of glassware and a sudden silence. ‘Hello?’ She cautiously entered the office and rounded the corner.

Roy pulled back from the guy, Kyle, as he heard a surprised gasp. He opened his eyes and turned to look at Thea, unconsciously licking his lips as Kyle released his hands from Roy’s neck and ass. They pulled apart as she stood there, lips trembling and confusion in her eyes. There were no words and Roy just stood there before shrugging. ‘Now you know.’ Thea stared at him, all the memories she didn’t want to think about rising up; the way he had spoken the Arrow’s name when he came, the muttered instances of Oliver’s name when he was dreaming, the gay porn on his tablet he forgot to delete. She always ignored it, refused to consider what it meant. She loved him too much to lose him like this: had invested too much; the pain of this betrayal was overwhelming. She sobbed then as Kyle looked between them, ‘Uh, I should go.’ As he went to leave, Roy pulled him back into an embrace, mashing their lips together, pulling his unwilling hands to cradle his ass and pushing his own under the man’s shirt. Thea stood crying for a moment before running away, down the stairs and outside. Roy felt a savage twist of pleasure, it had hurt her alright; but he felt strangely elated as he opened his mouth to let the man's tongue spear into him. Now maybe Oliver would bring him closer; with no ties to break, no weaknesses to hold him back. Maybe if Oliver got to know him as more than a mere weapon then maybe…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going on vacation until the end of July. Will resume updating in August. Hopefully it will be a restful but productive four weeks! No internet though :(


	5. Chapter 5

It didn’t seem to matter what Roy did; it just made things worse. He had such high hopes after breaking up with Thea. He thought Oliver would notice him more, at the very least he’d talk to him about the breakup. But no, nothing. Oliver just ignored him even more. Roy didn’t cry. He wasn’t able to. His eyes just filled with water before he blinked them angrily away. They wouldn’t fall. He hadn’t been able to let that emotion out for years; he just kept it inside, bottling it up tight, winding himself up tighter and tighter. Eventually it was going to explode out of him. The worst part about it was that he knew it was going to happen. Already the anger just flowed into him with barely a need for him to dig it out any more. He just had to think and his pulse quickened, his fists clenching and teeth grinding. The part he hated though, was that it was Oliver’s handsome face grinning at him, mocking him; that floated into his mind to ignite his rage. He thought that breaking up with her would make it easier for them to get along, but it seemed Oliver just didn’t care about him.

 

It had been a strange night for Roy after the kiss with that guy, Kyle. It wasn’t just that Roy finally admitted the truth to himself and Thea, but that he was ok with it. Sure, he had hurt her deeply; hopefully deep enough so she’d forget him forever and no longer be put in danger by his uncontrollable rage. But it was after she left that it…just went on. The guy was a bit unsure at first, realising he probably got involved in something messy, but Roy could see the desire in the man’s eyes, feel his hard cock as it pressed against his thigh and Roy couldn’t help but pull him closer and move against him. They left together, moving quietly and quickly to avoid Oliver and Thea. 

 

Waking up that morning had been hard for Roy. He lay in bed, the coolness of white sheets beneath him, the comfort of expensive cotton covers wrapped around his naked lower torso. He ran a hand across his chest, his fingers becoming tacky with sweat and drying cum. He looked over at the sleeping man next to him. Roy turned carefully onto his side and studied Kyle; he was younger in the soft morning light, not quite in his mid-twenties, stubble around his jaw and chin, his skin tanned and supple. Roy reached over tentatively and stroked his rich brown hair, feeling it fall through his fingers. Roy sighed sadly to himself as he remembered flashes of last night’s activities; every time Kyle had touched him, stroked him, sucked him, fucked him, Roy was wishing, imagining, believing it was Oliver. He was sure he even mentioned the Arrow’s name a few times as they climaxed together, eyes shut tight, before falling back onto the bed to recover. Roy didn’t quite understand why he kept asking for more, giving more, teasing, touching, and almost begging for one more time. He felt the blush start at the base of his spine and travel upwards until his cheeks were aflame as the memories came back in full force. 

 

He eased the sheets back and grimaced as he stood up. Sitting down was going to be difficult for a while; they had gone so hard he could almost feel Kyle pushing into him as he tottered over to the bathroom. Roy looked at his reflection in the mirror as he finished pissing into the toilet. For some reason he couldn’t help but smile at himself: sheepishly at first, but soon he was grinning like a fool as he felt his heart lighten for the first time in months. He ducked his head out the door as he heard Kyle stirring in the bed. Roy paused for a moment, unsure if he wanted to make a quick exit or crawl back into bed. Kyle rolling over and sitting up made the decision for him.

‘Hey.’

‘Hi.’ Roy swallowed as he realised he was still naked and rapidly getting aroused as Kyle threw back the sheets revealing his well-built body. ‘Uh, I was gonna…’

‘Hmm?’ Roy looked up as Kyle approached him, an easy grin forming on his face as he kissed Roy on the lips. ‘Wait, at least for breakfast.’ Brushing past him to the bathroom Kyle closed the door. Roy nodded dumbly to himself.

 

It wasn’t until they had exchanged numbers and said goodbye to each other; Kyle embracing Roy in a warm strong hug that the younger man held onto, that Roy realised he hadn’t thought about Oliver since he had woken up. Kyle had kept his mind busy over breakfast with easy questions and was surprisingly funny. Roy had found himself talking more than in a long time: none of the usual awkwardness after a one night stand. He even thought about asking the guy out again, but quickly squashed that idea after he turned his phone on and saw an urgent message from Felicity to get to the club. His life needed him back and the whole point of breaking up with Thea was to protect the people he cared about. He couldn’t risk someone else. Plus what about Oliver? Sure, some of the dull ache had been lessened, a piece even chipped off, but the thought of the archer still made his heart beat a little faster, the thought of Oliver one day buried inside him made Roy shudder in pleasure. He quickly ignored the fact that Kyle’s easy grin came into his mind as readjusted himself and set off to see what big emergency was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from vacation now. I'll update this fic as often as I get the urge to write it. I'm really liking the way the story is turning out, even though it has drifted away somewhat from pure Roy/Oliver. But I have some ideas on how to get them together!


	6. Chapter 6

They were back from a mission, barely a few days after he had broken up with Thea. Oliver had been quiet, Roy could feel his gaze lingering on him when he had turned away from the archer. It had been somewhat concerned, some other aspect shrouded in mystery. The mission had been uneventful; at least nothing they couldn’t handle together. It had been the first time they had operated alone together, well since he knew it was Oliver under the hood. Roy had found it hard to concentrate; thoughts moving sluggishly around his mind as he took every opportunity to study Oliver close up. There had been one particular moment that made his stomach summersault just reliving it. The two criminals they had been chasing ducked into the sewers, losing themselves in the warren of poorly lit tunnels. Roy and Oliver had stuck together, stalking their quarry carefully, hoping he would lead them to their leader, until he suddenly doubled back, and forcing Oliver to push Roy into a tiny alcove in the sewer wall; hiding his red hoodie and bright t-shirt from view. 

 

Oliver was pressed tightly against him; the hardness of his chest and stomach pressing into Roy’s own trembling body. He licked his lips unconsciously as he cautiously ducked his head into the crook of Oliver’s neck, breathing his scent deeply, feeling the fires of attraction flare brightly in his stomach and lower down as he arched backwards against the wall hoping that Oliver wouldn’t feel his raging hard-on as it bulged obviously out of Roy’s tight fitting pants. All too soon the moment was over as the criminal passed them by without a second glance: Oliver’s dark green outfit camouflaging them perfectly. Oliver stepped back murmuring an apology as he looked about for the criminal. Roy had stepped into darker shadows to adjust himself covertly but he still felt Oliver’s eyes on him as he did so. 

 

It wasn’t much of a surprise to him then that they traded glances, the air heavy with unspoken words. Roy was curious to see if Oliver would bring up his break up with Thea; she must have told him, right? But he didn’t and Roy didn’t know how to do so naturally. After catching and questioning the criminals, a part which Roy zoned out of: he just looked menacing, they headed back to the club. It was still day light and Thea wouldn’t be there for another few hours. In fact the base was empty; just the two of them in the main room; although Roy thought he could see Sarah in the back room she sometimes shared with Oliver. Roy could feel that familiar surge of anger, that clench of jealousy when he thought of them together. Yet again he could feel Oliver’s lingering gaze on him as they changed out of their sweat soaked clothes. Roy casually mentioned that he was going to train for a while and Oliver nodded at him absentmindedly.

 

Regardless of Oliver’s apparent disinterest, Roy found himself deliberately flexing, preening in the attention as he shucked his hoodie off in favour of his tight black vest. He began training, practicing what Oliver had showed him over the past few weeks. He kept half an eye on Oliver as he worked at the computers; surfing the web looking for more information on the criminal gang they were targeting. Roy was working out at half pace when Sarah emerged from the back room, giving him a brief smile and kissing Oliver on the cheek as she stood beside him.

 

Roy felt his jaw clench as he ground his teeth, struggling to maintain control of his anger. He turned back to the training target and focused his fury into his fists, pounding at it until they were a blur, a thin sheen of sweat glistening along his muscled arms, dripping gently down his flushed face onto his smooth chest. The rapid sound of furious punches caused Oliver and Sarah to turn around and look at him. Roy’s hands were bleeding now, the blood clotting rapidly even as it soaked through the fabric wrapped around his hands, his form breathing rapidly, the pounding of his blood in his ears blocking out all sound, not hearing Oliver shouting his name until the last of his burning rage exploded out of his fists in one furious punch which broke the training target in half. 

 

It was only then that he stopped, his hands dropping to his sides, temporarily exhausted. The gentle dripping of his blood down his knuckles and falling onto the floor slowly brought him back to reality. He swallowed hastily as he turned to glance at Oliver’s surprised face. Sarah was looking at him almost fearfully. His chest heaved as he sought to control his breathing. ‘What? I thought you needed my strength?’

‘Not like that,’ Oliver approached him, the taller man standing over Roy as he looked at the damage done to the target, ‘You still need to learn how to control the rage.’

‘Huh, right.’ Roy turned away from them even as Oliver placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently before he turned away. Roy watched from the corner of his eye as Oliver and Sarah conversed quietly. He licked his lips unconsciously as Oliver bent over to pick up the target, his eyes darting up quickly as he realised Sarah was watching him quietly. Roy quickly broke eye contact, but that didn’t stop her coming over to him. She gave him another smile and suggested that he should learn how to use a bow; ‘It might give you a better sense of control.’ She leant over to him then, whispering the final words into his ear; ‘Oliver will stop worrying about you losing control if you’re using a weapon and not your hands.’

He nodded at her, glad he wasn’t as transparent as he felt. Even though Oliver’s eyes had left him at that stage Roy still felt the stirrings of the fire in his stomach. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stood next to Sarah in front of the ranged target. Oliver came around to watch them and Roy felt his heart race, sweat bead his upper lip and run down his face; his hands clammy. He quickly stripped off his vest as Sarah instructed him on the basics. He flexed loosely, before taking the bow from her. Oliver watched his first few shots giving occasional tips on how to hold the bow, adjust his stance, aim down at the target. Roy was actually beginning to enjoy himself; not the archery part: he sucked at that, but being close to Oliver; shirtless, doing what the Arrow did, feeling his bow in his hands. He even grinned at Oliver, earning a small smile in return. All too soon Oliver’s phone rang and he left without another word, his face serious. Roy guessed it was Thea. Maybe she hadn’t told him everything. Roy tightened his grip on the shaft and focused, his mind bringing up Oliver’s smile, his firm torso, his strong hands. Releasing the arrow in an almost dream-like state, Roy smiled to himself; thinking of the dreams he was going to have tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer Training with Oliver!

Roy holds the bow tightly, the arrow held close in a slightly shaking hand. He can feel Oliver’s eyes trained closely on him. The older man was dressed casually in a tight fitting t-shirt and jeans. It had been a slow day, it had been quiet all week; but a tense sort of silence, like the city was holding its breath before the storm. Oliver rested against the bench across from Roy; only the two of them. A hiss of air and a dull thump indicated the release of the arrow and its impact off-target. Roy sighed, his shoulders slumping as he raised a hand to swipe the sweat from his face. Oliver tutted softly as Roy turned to look at him.

‘What?’

Oliver turned towards him, noting the glare, the tension, the sweat rolling down Roy’s face to the hem of his snug fitting vest. He pushed off the bench and stood to the side. ‘You’re holding the bow wrong.’

‘Well show me.’ Roy thrust the bow towards Oliver, anger straining his voice-Roy never liked to lose, especially in front of Oliver. But Oliver shook his head and gently pushed the bow back into Roy’s palm. ‘No, it doesn’t work like that. You need to hold it.’

Oliver stood behind Roy mere inches away from him. Roy felt his heart begin to hammer, his neck prickling as he felt the soft breath from the taller man. His palms were sweating and he turned nervously but Oliver gently turned him back towards the target with strong hands on Roy’s hips. Roy gulped and willed his cock to go down; thankful for his tight briefs keeping it in check and not bulging out in his sweat pants.

Oliver reached over Roy’s shoulder and placed one hand on Roy’s left, bringing the bow up to chest height and carefully adjusting his grip on the bow. He steps back and adjusts Roy stance, turning him to the correct position and making small changes to Roy’s legs and waist. He then stood directly behind him and took his right hand, placed it over Roy’s and showing him the correct way to nock the shaft of the arrow.

‘Now relax, Roy. You’re too tense right now. Just take deep breaths and concentrate.’

Roy resisted the urge to roll his eyes; this was so clichéd! But he didn’t say anything, glorying in the feel of Oliver pressed against him again, his strong hands clasped over his own, his hot breath on his neck; Roy shivered. 

‘And now, when you’re ready, release!’ Roy fired the arrow and dropped the bow slowly as the arrow struck the target off center. He smiled briefly and turned to Oliver, who grinned in return. ‘Nice! Try it again.’

The afternoon turned slowly into evening as they continued to train together. Roy got gradually better until at last his arms were too heavy to raise the bow. Felicity came down the stairs just as they were finishing up. ‘Hey guys, what’ve you been up to?’

‘Oh, not much, just showing Roy how to shoot!’ Oliver shrugged off the question. Roy scowled, unseen by the others. Was that all it was? It felt like there was more to it; their closeness, the touching. He gulped, suddenly realising how it sounded. He turned back as Felicity called his name. ‘Yeah, sorry. I have to go.’ 

Oliver watched him leave abruptly, confusion written across his face, before being replaced by concern as Felicity filled him in on a developing crisis downtown. 

Roy rested against the wall in the alley behind the club, struggling to retain control of his emotions, swallowing hard. He took out his phone and scrolled down his contacts to the k’s, he paused, thumb hovering over the call icon. Roy bit his lip until the metallic taste of his blood touched his tongue. The afternoon’s events flooded his mind, the touches, the feelings, it was all too much. He swiped the icon and made the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always bothered me that Roy got so good with the bow, with so little apparent training!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for slightly rapey Roy...

Oliver stood over the broken body of Iron Hands, the brutish thug had finally succumbed to his numerous wounds. The shattered corpses of his final two victims lay in a pitiful heap on either side of the monstrous figure. Oliver’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession, exerted after the intensity of the fight; short, brutal; the desperation of survival. Iron Hands had terrorised the city for almost a week; his first murders were directed towards prostitutes and the homeless, the unseen people, and then they spiralled out of control, attacks in daylight, all over the city; no pattern to be found, except for the horrific level of aggression and violence demonstrated by the murderer. Oliver and Roy had chased him across the city, his large brutish form belying a fierce, almost animal intelligence as he drew them closer to his hunting ground near the city’s dying industrial districts. After hours of pursuit and almost fights he turned on them, waiting until they came in close in the shadow of a concrete mixing plant. 

 

With astonishing speed he grabbed Roy and flung him against the rusting edifice of the cranes which towered above them. He was stunned for a second, the strength of the man catching him by surprise. He reached over his shoulder for his newly crafted bow and quickly notched an arrow as Oliver fought desperately against the man, blocking his heavy swings with his own bow, dancing backwards and side to side. Roy lined up the shot and drew back, his strength making for a powerful shot. He released and the arrow sped through the air to burrow into the meaty flesh of Iron Hands’ back. He roared in annoyance, reaching back to snap the deeply buried haft. He then turned away from Oliver, who had been bent over, blood running down his face from a cut above his eye, his nose a bloody mess. Roy’s eyes widened in concern, Oliver sapping his attention for only a moment. But it was all Iron Hands needed, bowing his head and squaring his shoulders he barrelled into Roy throwing him back against the crane’s structure. Grabbing the struggling man by each wrist he thrust Roy against the metal framework. Roy gritted his teeth as he watched Iron Hands grin evilly, his eyes almost glowing in their malevolence. He was attempting to rip him apart, but Roy sneered triumphantly back at him as the mirakuru pumped through his veins lending him the strength to bunch his legs together and push back against the brute. As Iron Hands staggered backwards Oliver had recovered enough to draw three arrows onto his bow. ‘Hey!’ Iron Hands looked in his direction and Oliver released the shafts. Roy got to his feet, rolling his shoulders and picked up his own bow. The satisfying twack of the impacts caused him to look up; the three arrows struck Iron Hands square in the face, but even this did not seem enough as he bellowed at them and charged Oliver.

 

Oliver danced around the slowing swings of Iron Hands, he was almost out of arrows, with Roy rolling into cover behind him to shoot again. Iron Hands was a pin cushion, but he still refused to die. They had climbed around the superstructure of the plant until they were high above the entrance. Oliver had glanced over when the man’s attention had been diverted by Roy to see the struggling forms of the latest victims. ‘I’m out!’ Roy called across to him as he ducked a punch, responding with one of his own, sending the brute sprawling across the scaffolding. Oliver glanced back and took a running jump at Iron Hands, two feet into his chest, breaking the shafts of the arrows buried there. With a stumbling gasp the man fell backwards over the edge. Roy could only look on in horror as Oliver was pulled after him into the abyss; Iron Hands clasping his feet tightly. Roy threw back his hood as he watched the two men fall down in silence until at last they slammed into the ground with an earth shattering thud. He searched desperately for Oliver as he swung carefully down the scaffolds. 

 

With a groan, Oliver pulled himself upright; he had landed on the now stilled form of Iron Hands; a few bruised ribs and more than a comfortable amount of blood covered his face. He stood shakily and looked around. The final victims had been turned into a pulpy mess by Iron Hands falling body and his final frenzied death throes. ‘Oliver!’ He turned to see Roy come to a stop behind him, face flushed and eyes wide in concern. Seeing Oliver standing upright, he hung back, restless hands smoothing out his hoodie. ‘Uh, you’re ok?’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver shrugged carefully, before walking over to him, ‘a few cuts and bruises. Come on, we better go.’

‘What about them?’ Roy gestured to the bodies around them.

‘Nothing we can do. Felicity has called the cops, we need to leave.’

‘Sure.’ Roy nodded and offered his arm to Oliver, who lent on it gratefully as they limped back into the shadows of the plant.

 

They managed to return to the city undetected, Oliver making a slow but steady progress, while Roy helped him without effort, his thoughts rushing between that horrible moment when he thought Oliver was lost and the reassuring weight of the older man against him, the sharp scent of his sweat distractingly arousing as he unconsciously pulled Oliver closer to his body. He fought the growing hunger in the pit of his stomach, the swelling bulge at the front of his pants, thankful that it was dark.

For his part, Oliver was dimly aware of Roy’s proximity; his hand clasping Oliver’s own, the other snaking around to hold him just below the damaged ribs. Pain rolled through him, as he felt the darkness of unconsciousness swallow him up. 

Roy felt Oliver sag and his feet go from under him. He looked down and checked the man’s pulse. It was fine, but the pain must have been too much. They were close to The Glades and Roy made the snap decision to take Oliver home, rather than back to the club. He told himself that it was more to do with helping Oliver quickly than any other, ulterior, motive.

 

After carefully placing Oliver on his bed, Roy pulled off his sweat soaked hoodie, stowing both of their bows by the bedside locker. He leaned over Oliver and propped his head up on some pillows, carefully unzipping Oliver’s outer hood and pulling off the rest of his clothes until the man was shirtless, his chest rising and falling slowly. Roy felt his mouth go dry as he drank in all of Oliver’s muscled torso, free for the first time to examine it in detail; the scarring was extensive, but it didn’t detract from his attractiveness. In fact Roy kind of liked it. He glanced up to make sure Oliver was out cold and ran a trembling hand over his hard warm abs and then traced a ghostly touch up and around Oliver’s well defined pecs, pausing over the erect nips as they stiffened in the slight coolness of the room. Roy leaned over Oliver and studied the man’s face intently; the minor cuts and blood he had cleaned up and dressed. Roy’s heart bet faster as he gently traced his thumb over Oliver’s jaw line and trembled against his lips. Roy climbed onto the bed beside Oliver, the crotch of his pants stretching obscenely as he no longer bothered to restrain himself. He licked his lips and hovered over Oliver’s face. He was almost completely certain that the archer was out cold. Heart beating uncontrollably, Roy leant down and pressed his lips against the unmoving ones of Oliver’s. He gently licked and sucked at Oliver’s bottom lip before pulling back, his cheeks flushed. 

 

Roy quickly pulled the rest of his clothes off and tossed them into his nearby bathroom, leaving him in his tightly fitting briefs. He carefully unlaced Oliver’s pants and pulled them half down, freezing in place when the man groaned slightly. Roy’s breathing returned to normal when Oliver seemed to be still unconscious. He reached up and gently fondled Oliver’s cock, soft as it was through the fabric of his cotton underwear. Roy lifted the elastic hem and peaked inside, sating his months' old curiosity, before releasing the hem. He then carefully climbed onto the bed and straddled Oliver’s waist; pushing his straining erection against Oliver’s unresponsive cock. He lowered himself down once again and kissed Oliver’s lips, feeling the prickle of his stubble against his own freshly shaved chin. Roy couldn’t help but grind against Oliver for a brief two minutes, almost shooting his load in that glorious pleasurable time, but again he felt Oliver groan beneath him.

 

Reluctantly Roy pulled himself off Oliver and instead stood at the foot of the bed. He pulled down the front of his briefs, freeing his cock and jerked off furiously; his eyes feasting on Oliver’s half naked body in front of him. Roy moaned and whispered Oliver’s name over and over, biting on his lip and savouring the taste that he had taken from Oliver’s. After five glorious minutes, Roy felt his cum pumping up and he shot his load all over his own stomach, Oliver’s name on his tongue as his eyes stared at the man’s well-built body.

 

Afterwards, Roy cleaned himself up and dressed quickly in a tightly fitting t-shirt and sweat pants. He lingered over Oliver’s still undressed form, torn between his roaring lust and the slow guilt that had entered his stomach after he had finished jerking off. The lust won out and Roy grabbed his tablet; shooting a quick video of Oliver laid out on his bed and then several dozen up close shots of Oliver; his face, his pecs, his abs, his whole upper body, the sizeable bulge in his underwear. Everything. Then he carefully redressed Oliver, lacing back his pants. But he paused as he was about to replace Oliver’s shirt, noticing the bruising around his ribs beginning to show in a deep purple haze. Roy gulped as he looked at it and went to get some ice. Wrapping the ice in a cloth he gently pressed it against Oliver’s chest, causing the man to moan in pain. Roy managed to push him over to the other side of the bed and climbed on. With one hand he held the ice to Oliver’s ribs, and rested his head against the unbruised part of his chest. Roy could feel the tiredness coming over him and let himself drift off.

 

The howl of a siren woke him with a start. Oliver was gone, had slipped out without waking him, but must have pushed him to one side as Roy was now on the other side of the bed. Dragging a hand across sleep crusted eyes, Roy reached over for his phone, seeing a message from Oliver. Just one word.

‘Thanks.’


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head, finally!

In the days that followed the defeat of Iron Hands, Roy found himself avoiding speaking to Oliver; he left abruptly whenever the older man tried to talk to him, glared back at the inquisitive stares of Diggle and Felicity and worked out more that usual, splintering three of Oliver's specially bought reinforced training targets. Eventually Oliver cornered him one afternoon in the alley outside the club.

‘Roy! Wait.’

Roy stopped in his tracks, facing away from Oliver. Taking a deep breath he turned around, willing his heart to stop beating like crazy, urging the flush that had already started to rise up his neck to go away. Oliver was looking straight at him, a loose brown t-shirt hanging from his muscular frame, his ribs still bandaged tight beneath it. He put one hand against the wall, leaning on it as he looked at Roy with concern.

‘Hey, what’s up Roy?’

‘Huh?’ Roy shrugged, avoiding eye contact, ‘nothing. Nothing’s wrong.’

‘Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something to upset you?’

‘No. of course not,’ he replied quickly, a little too quickly, judging from Oliver’s raised eyebrows. ‘It’s not you, it’s….something else.’

Oliver nodded to himself, glancing away before catching Roy’s intense eyes, ‘It’s Thea isn’t it?’

Roy swallowed, nervous suddenly, not wanting to say the wrong thing he just shrugged non-committedly.

‘I spoke to her a few days ago, she’s still pretty upset about what happened.’ Oliver spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully as Roy felt himself begin to sweat nervously. ‘She, uh, she said you made it clear you weren’t interested in her anymore…?’ Oliver left the sentence hanging, hoping Roy would fill in the blanks. The younger man didn’t say anything, just looked at the ground, hands clenched in his pockets. 

Oliver sighed, thinking back to his conversation with Thea. She had been locked in her room, eventually opening the door to him after half an hour of talking through it. She had looked a mess, eyes puffy and red, tissues strewn across the bed, the drapes drawn so the room was barely lit in the half light of the spring evening. They had talked in general at first, or rather Oliver had talked and Thea just sat there sniffling into her tissue. Eventually Oliver asked her the question he already knew the answer to; had Roy broken up with her for good? It was painful to sit there and know that he had caused her this misery, but it was for her own good; Roy was too unpredictable.

‘Yes it’s over! He made sure of that.’ 

Oliver patted her gently on the shoulder, before pulling her into a reassuring hug as she told him everything; the splinters in their relationship, the growing obsession Roy had had for the Arrow, the desire to be a hero like him. Oliver nodded comfortingly as he digested this new information, it was somewhat surprising, but he had noticed the hero worship part before. Then Thea stopped speaking, her breath in shuddering gasps.

‘So you two had problems before the breakup. Well,’ Oliver offered her a small smile,’ there’s plenty more fish in the sea!’

Thea looked at him, annoyed for a minute, then sighed as she settled back into the bed; Oliver standing up to go. ‘Hopefully straight fish,’ she muttered under her breath.

‘Huh? What did you say?’ Oliver turned back to Thea.

She shrugged, ‘That’s the main reason we split; Roy’s gay.’

‘Uh, are you sure? He was very upset after the breakup.’ She looked at him curiously, ‘Oh, I gave him a reference, you know, so you wouldn’t have to do it.’ Oliver felt the lie roll off his tongue with ease as his mind raced. 

Thea dismissed the explanation and nodded again, ‘Yeah, I’m sure. I caught him kissing another guy. That doesn’t leave much room for misinterpretation.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, some guy he met at the club, probably.’

 

Oliver looked back at Roy as the memory faded, he had turned away and started walking. ‘Hey! I’m not done yet. Roy?’ Oliver walked over to him.

Roy could feel the archer standing closely behind him, felt his heart beat fast, his palms sweat inside his clenched fists, his stomach turning summersaults. He closed his eyes, running his tongue over his lips. Tension springing from his jaw, as he ground his teeth, trying to resist the urge to spin around and pull Oliver into his arms.

‘Roy?’ Oliver placed a hand carefully on Roy’s shoulder, feeling the tensed up muscles under the tight fitting fabric of the vest. He took a step backwards as Roy suddenly turned around, closing the distance between them, pushing the older man back against the wall, pushing his own body against his.

Roy moved instinctively, one hand pining Oliver to the wall the other wrapping around his neck and pulling his head down as he leaned in, locking their lips together. And the world stood still.

 

Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt the passion in Roy’s kiss, he didn’t respond, couldn’t as he felt Roy grind up against him, his obvious erection pushing against his hip.  
Roy’s eyes were shut tight, fearing to open them as his lips pressed tightly against Oliver’s, he tried to push his tongue in and met the strong resistance of Oliver’s clenched teeth. He couldn’t resist pushing against Oliver, wanting it, begging him to respond.

After what felt like an eternity, a sweet eternity for Roy, he felt Oliver push him back, one hand flat against his chest shoved him backwards, while the other pulled Roy’s hand from his neck. The kiss broke as Roy stumbled backwards, falling over as he tangled his feet in the boxes strewn about the alleyway.

Looking up at Oliver’s confused and angry face, he knew he had made a mistake. He struggled to get upright as Oliver half opened his bruised lips to say something, before stopping and just shaking his head. Roy stood silent for a moment before glancing around him and running off. Oliver took a step back, startled at the turn of speed. ‘Hey! Roy!’ He called after him, watching Roy run away down the alley and out across the street, wincing as he nearly got flattened by a semi trailer. Alone in the alleyway, Oliver gently licked his lips, tasting the unfamiliar aftermath of the young man’s lustful kiss. ‘Oh, Roy,’ Oliver sighed to himself as he rubbed a hand through his short hair, before going back inside the club.

 

Roy ran through the streets, ran all the way back until he was in the comfort of the Glades, running as fast as he could as he felt the tears run down his face, knowing that he had destroyed everything: ruined his relationship with Oliver, ruined any chance he had of being part of Team Arrow, destroyed any fantasy where Oliver could love him back. He ran until he collapsed, sobbing and exhausted on the front porch of his house; crawling in the door and falling onto his bed, the tears falling uncontrollably and silently, not making a noise as he grabbed his pillow, the pillow that had supported Oliver’s head not a week past, holding it close to his chest, burying his nose into it and breathing in what little remained of Oliver’s smell. 

He stayed like that for hours, eventually dropping into an uneasy sleep, until he felt the vibrations of his phone in his pocket. Reaching for it in the darkness, he saw that it was Felicity. He quickly declined it, noticing the long list of missed calls; first Oliver, then Felicity, even Diggle had called him twice. Roy sat up, he didn’t want to be here anymore. He climbed off the bed, stumbling into the bathroom, flicking on the lights to see his dishevelled face and hair in the mirror. Running the cold water he quickly washed his face and carefully felt the tenderness around his eyes. It had been a long time since he had cried like that, a long time since he had cared about someone enough to cry that hard. Leaving the bathroom he threw a few things into a bag and hurried outside to his car. Checking the gauge, he saw he had enough to get to Central City. One way.


	10. Chapter 10

Oliver stood with his hands pressed against the cold steel of the computer bench in the darkness of the Arrowcave. He replayed the events of the past few days over and over in his mind; the rapid shift from almost friends to something more. Something he couldn’t quite get his mind around, something that, honestly, scared him a little. A tiny niggling voice in his mind whispered one phrase over and over; ‘You kinda enjoyed that.’ Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps it was the sheer force of Roy’s passion that overwhelmed him, the desire, the lust. Women were always coy and held back and reserved around him; but Roy was honest and obvious and aggressive. Perhaps, Oliver mused to himself, this was how it was between two men, regardless of their sexuality, it is up front and just sex for pleasure, emotions are not that important. And then the little voice asked him two questions; ‘Does Roy love you? Do you want him?’ And that, that really caught Oliver off-guard.

 

Felicity burst into the Arrowcave just as Oliver was getting ready to leave; he had traced Roy’s cell phone Central City; the old industrial-turned-slums sector. 

‘Oliver! I found it! It took a while but I isolated Slade’s location based on the power input/output ratio!’ 

Oliver turned back toward Felicity and listened as she filled him in. Slade’s new foot soldiers had been seen with increasing numbers over the past twenty-four hours and all attempts to find his mirakuru factory had failed. This was too important to ignore; Roy would have to wait.

 

Three Days Earlier

Roy was cold, in fact he was freezing. He could feel it slipping into his bones as he shuffled restlessly on the backseat of his car. It had run out of gas just as he entered Central City, limping to a stop outside an abandoned steel mill. It kind of reminded him of Verdant. The first night he just sat there, eyes watery, but no longer crying. Sometimes, though a tear would fall, streaking down his cheeks as he thought about Oliver pushing him back, his angry face as the archer glared at him. Roy thought about the kiss too, though. The feeling it evoked: the fire roaring in his stomach, the hardness in his briefs. And then Oliver’s confused and angry face.

The second night was worse and cold. The neighbourhood was pretty bad, he didn’t need to grow up in the Glades to see that. Junkies shot up openly in the streets and people hurried past him with their collars up and hands clenched in their pockets. Women of the night surrounded him as he crossed the junctions, their cries of false pleasure making him scowl and push them away whenever one ventured too close. The rent boys, on the other hand, they watched him from a distance, trying to determine if he was a rival or a potential customer. They seemed to settle on the latter; Roy felt their hungry eyes on him as he passed through them; every now and again their eyes would meet and they grinned mischievously at him, sucking obscenely on a finger or outright groping their asses. Roy swallowed nervously at their displays, his eyes dropping quickly as he felt lust unravel in his stomach and his heart pound a little fast, the blush spreading up his neck to his face.

The third night he was starving, his money all but gone, only a few dollars left. He spent most of the day roaming, only to come back and find his car windows smashed and tires gone. ‘Huh, didn’t think that actually happened.’ He muttered to himself as he turned away from it. He walked on, pushing through the now familiar throng of hookers and rent boys; the women ignoring him and the young men shamelessly flirting with him as he passed by until an actual customer came along. Roy found his way to a shelter. It was crowded, but the smell of hot soup overpowered his reserve and he shouldered his way inside. Standing in the line, he glanced around him, realising that this was what his life had come to. Roy left, pushing his way back out, pulling up his hood as the cold air hit him like a brick. Shivering, he plunged his hands into his pockets, counting out his change. Maybe he had enough to call Oliver. Maybe Oliver cared enough to come for him? 

 

Roy entered a side alley, remembering an unbroken phone box on a sidewalk not too far from him. As he made his way past the homeless people stretched out on their cardboard, their bodies nearly indistinguishable from the trash around them, he felt the presence of someone behind him. Turning he found himself face to face with a figured dressed sharply in a suit, a heavy woollen coat opened and the figure’s face in shadow. Roy watched as it approached, revealing itself to be a man of slightly above average height, early twenties, clean shaven and tanned. Roy looked him over cautiously, ‘You don’t belong here.’

The figure shrugged, a half smile pulling at his lips as he obviously ran his eyes over Roy’s body. ‘Neither do you. So… why don’t you come with me?’

Roy snorted and turned to leave.

‘I’ll make it worth your while. How does a thousand dollars sound?’

Roy turned back, eyebrows hitched, ‘What would I have to do for that?’

The man smiled, teeth gleaming in the reflection of a passing bus, ‘Oh, just a little fun…’ The man had closed the distance between them now. Roy looked up at him as if considering. He was pretty hungry and a thousand bucks would allow him to get back to Starling City, without begging Oliver for help. As he was considering, he failed to notice the silver syringe the man had pulled out. Roy nodded reluctantly and the man grinned again, pulling Roy in front of him and hugging him to his chest. Roy was startled at first and then felt the grip of fear as the man whipped up the needle and plunged it into him. Roy struggled but the man held him tight, the sedative extremely powerful and subduing him almost immediately. Roy felt his eyes fall shut as though anchors were attached to them and he slumped in the man’s arms. The man threw aside the empty syringe and dropped the wad of cash he had pulled out to show Roy onto the cardboard mat of the homeless woman who had witnessed the entire thing. She smiled a crooked grin at him as he threw Roy over one shoulder and walked back to his car.

 

Present Day

Oliver dropped into the power station without a sound, he had faced no opposition so far; his stealthy approach avoided the guards and there was little electronic security. He padded softly towards the machine; it was huge: an arc of men in orange jumpsuits were linked together via overhead cables feeding the mirakuru into their bloodstreams. He walked carefully around them, watching in case of movement. He could see a shirtless figure bound to arm crosses of the machine, needles plunged into pale flesh, greedily sucking the blood from his veins. Oliver walked slowly up the steps towards Roy’s body, his eyes drifting over his pale torso, the drip-drip of his blood collecting a jar behind him was the only sound in the room apart from the gentle hiss of the cables conveying the blood around. Oliver stopped in front of Roy, looking at his calm face, eyes closed, peaceful; so unlike the last time they had been face to face. Oliver swallowed carefully as he considered how to get Roy out of the machine without hurting him, or worse killing him. Roy looked even paler than normal as Oliver ghosted a hand across his torso, the flesh of his abs and chest cool to the touch even with Oliver’s gloves. It was clear that Roy had been taken here against his will, his arms held tight and upright by thick steel bands, even as the rest of him was allowed to sit. Both his arms had been tapped for blood and it was flowing freely out of him. Oliver frowned as he watched one tube run dry for a few seconds before filling up again; Roy was running out of time; even his mirakuru enhanced body wouldn’t be able to sustain this for much longer.

Oliver reached a hand across Roy’s bicep, running his fingers down the strong muscle until it reached the tube. He made as if to tug it out but was interrupted by Slade’s voice.

‘I wouldn’t do that.’ 

Oliver looked at him, bow drawn and arrow fitted, he glanced back at Roy as Felicity whispered instructions in his ear as how to extract the man without killing him. Oliver nodded and grunted a quiet ok, before turning his attention back to Slade. Slade grinned at him, and gestured to Roy. ‘Interesting that you care for him now.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Obvious what happened really. You pushed him away, he’s here because of you, Oliver. He looked up to you, the Arrow. More than that though, wasn’t it?’ Slade barked a mirthless laugh as Oliver gritted his teeth. ‘Yes, I thought so. But you…You rejected him, crushed his soul. Forced him to run, made him desperate. Consider almost anything, to get back to you.’

Oliver had heard enough. Whipping around he unleashed an arrow into the fuse box on the opposite wall. The room was plunged into semi-darkness, the eerie light from the machine spilled outwards casting Oliver’s attackers in a strange green glow. He dispatched them quickly, before being tackled by Slade. Arming his explosive arrow he released as Slade gloated over him. The explosion fizzled in a shower of sparks and smokes as Oliver jumped up and ran back to the machine. 

Oliver ripped open the steel bonds and gently pulled out the needles, glancing up to see Roy’s eyelids flutter open. He smiled weakly at Oliver, his voice slurred and soft.

‘Oliver…you came for me…’

‘Yeah, Roy.’ Oliver tried to say more, his throat choking up as Roy tried to move. ‘Hey, no. Stay still.’ He placed a hand on Roy’s chest to settle him down, his eyebrows shooting up as Roy clasped his hand with one of his own. Oliver finished removing the needles and pulled him up from the chair. Roy went limp against him as he carefully picked him up in his arms. Firing an arrow grapple through the glass roof, Oliver pulled them both up and out of the building.

 

Oliver stood with his hands pressed against the cold steel of the computer bench in the darkness of the Arrowcave. He looked at the body laid out on the table in front of him. The IV drip had just been replaced and the blood transfusion had been completed successfully. But Roy was still unconscious. The others had left, even though Felicity had offered to stay instead. Oliver refused, his heart heavy with guilt. Regardless of what had happened between them, he never should have let Roy leave like that, who knows what damage was done with that blasted blood sucking machine? 

Once again Oliver heard that tiny voice in his mind whispering to him as he stared at Roy’s shirtless body on the table, ‘Do you still deny you want him?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay on this chapter; major case of writer's block! Thankfully I have the next two chapters mapped out pretty well. Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

His eyes snapped open suddenly. Felicity was manning the monitors and failed to hear him as his head moved around. Roy’s eyes burned and he raised a hand to rub them, a sharp pain in his wrist is revealed to be a long IV and he pulls it out with a hiss of anger and fear. He hates needles. His thoughts flowed through his brain sluggishly and he struggled to remember who he was, where he is and most importantly who the hell is Oliver? 

One thing was certain though, Oliver was important, and he, Roy…that was his name…he had to get to Oliver. The last memory was dark, like a dream slipping between his fingers, but there was a bang, glass falling, Oliver was holding him close, heart beating fast. Oliver was scared! If he is scared, he must be in danger, and since Oliver was important, Oliver had to be protected. 

Roy’s brain slowly processed the details, his mind making the shortest links between the fragments of information available to him. He became aware of a woman standing behind him: Felicity, his brain supplied. He sat up fully as she raised her hands to calm him down.

‘Roy? Why don’t you lie back down?’

‘Oliver!’

‘Uh, I can get Oliver. Ok? Just wait there.’ Felicity backed off, hands still raised as she looked at Roy’s furious face, his jaw prominent as he gritted his teeth and scowled menacingly at her. She made her way to the computer, her gaze not leaving Roy. 

‘Hey Oliver, it’d be great if you get this message soon. Roy has woken up and he doesn’t seem himself. So…can you get down here please?’ Hanging up, Felicity turned around for a second. She turned back to Roy but found herself staring at an empty bench, the IV and monitoring pads cast off onto the floor. She looked around, suddenly realising that the Arrowcave had a lot of unnecessary shadowy corners. 

Roy watched her from the darkest corner of the room, he had moved there on instinct, dropping on all fours as she turned around. He had heard her speak to Oliver, but he didn’t respond, she must have him captive too! He was ready to pounce on her when Diggle came running down the stairs, causing him to fade back into the corner. 

‘Felicity, Oliver got your message. He’s held up in the club, something to do with staffing lists.’ He looked at the empty bench, ‘Where’s Roy?’

‘That’s the problem. He just woke up, asked for Oliver, well ordered me to get him, more like. And I turned away for a second and he’s gone.’

‘Hmm, maybe he slipped out.’

‘Oh, god. Do you think he’s gone after Thea?’

Felicity’s response was drowned out by the roaring in Roy’s ears. Thea. It all came back to him, now: Oliver was important because he was meant to be with Roy, but Thea…she poisoned his mind, she turned Oliver against him. Roy growled deep in his throat and Diggle looked at Felicity as they both made their way to the corner behind the archery equipment. Diggle held out an arm to stop Felicity and nodded to where Roy was hunched over, arms around his knees.

‘Hey Roy. You ok down there?’

Roy was staring into the floor, ‘Where’s Oliver?’

‘He’s not here, Roy. But he’ll be here soon.’

‘Yeah, sure. I need Oliver!’

Roy looked up and they stepped back; his eyes were hard and burning with fury they had never seen before, even in his other outbursts. It was as if the machine had kicked his mirakuru into overdrive and pushed his anger levels to near unstoppable levels. He stood up suddenly and stopped, as if noticing for the first time he was still shirtless. ‘Where are my clothes?’

‘Oh,’ Felicity ran back to the desk and pulled his hoody out. He took it from her hands and pulled it on quickly. ‘See? I even washed it.’

‘Thanks, I guess. Where’s Oliver?’

Diggle and Felicity exchanged a glance and quickly made excuses for him. Roy sat back on the bench and remained silent, his brain was trying to tell him something, but couldn’t quite make the connection; he just knew he had to wait for Oliver. Oliver was important.

Diggle pulled Felicity to one side, nodding at Roy, ‘What’s up with him? He’s never been like this before.’

‘I don’t know, but there’s so much we don’t understand about the mirakuru. And with the amount his bloodstream was exposed to, I’m not that surprised he’s acting weird.’ Roy begins muttering under his breath, causing them both to look over at him. They couldn’t hear much beyond ‘Oliver,’ every few seconds. Diggle frowned and whispered to Felicity, ‘Alright, this is getting disturbing, I’m going to get Oliver.’

Roy perked up, twisting around to stare at Diggle, ‘Where is he? What have you done to him?!’

‘Nothing. I’m getting him right now.’ Diggle began to back off carefully as Roy stood up. He was looking at them strangely, his brows close together and frowning at them like he’d didn’t quite remember who they were. He kept repeating Oliver’s name under his breath as if he was afraid he would lose it. Roy shook his head rapidly and held up a hand as Felicity approached him. He bowed his head again and pulled up his hood, letting it dull the noises around him. Diggle pulled out his phone and speed dialled Oliver.

‘Hey, Oliver. It’s me…Yeah, I’m with Roy. Something’s not right with him…I understand, but…No. Fine I’ll tell him.’

‘Where’s Oliver?’ 

‘He…can’t come.’

‘Right.’ Roy let his head droop as they came closer. He knew what was going on; they were keeping Oliver from him. Diggle held out a hand to bring him back to the bench while Felicity hovered nearby. Roy waited until Diggle was a few inches from him before striking. With astonishing speed he grabbed the man and twisted his arm. Diggle went down hard, his head smacking against the metal table. He felt himself lose consciousness as Roy turned on Felicity.

Felicity looked up into Roy’s eyes, seeing little of the young man she had come to know, as she knelt down beside Diggle. He grabbed her by the wrist so hard she felt her bones grind together. Yelping in pain, she begged him to stop.

‘I’ll stop when you tell me where Oliver is!’

‘Upstairs! Upstairs! In the alley! Oww! Oww!’ With a savage twist he released the sobbing woman. Felicity crawled back to Diggle, turning him over to dab the bleeding wound with her uninjured hand. She looked back up as Roy turned over tables and smashed training dummies before finding the stairs and running up it. It was Oliver’s problem now.

 

The club was rocking, music pumping through all levels and the noise was unbearable to Roy as he stumbled out the rear exit. His vision swam back and forth as he steadied himself against the wall. A memory tugged at his sluggish mind when his fingers grazed against the rough brick walls. Was there…? Did something…? A kiss! Yes, he kissed Oliver here! But…there was something else. He staggered over to where boxes were stacked and crushed. Here. Something else…Oliver’s face swam into his mind; angry, upset. Shame settled into Roy’s stomach as he remembered that Oliver had pushed him away when he tried to kiss him. But why? Oliver was…no, he wasn’t Roy’s. Before Oliver, it had been…what was her name? He fumed to himself as his brain refused to co-operate. Then her name matched her face: Thea! Why was she…? Roy’s eyes widened as he finally remembered; Thea knew he was…gay, knew he wanted the Hood, told Oliver why they broke up, Oliver who was the Hood, the Arrow. It was her fault! Roy ground his teeth and growled deep in his throat as he stumbled out of the alley and across the street, ignoring the angry honks of the drivers swerving around him.

 

Oliver hurried down the steps, Felicity’s sobbing voice had forced him to drop everything and make yet more excuses to Thea who he was meant to be apologising to. The ‘Arrowcave,’ as Roy insisted on calling it, was ruined; tables turned over, glass smashed on the floor, papers swirling, bits of training kelvar ripped apart. Diggle was sitting down with a bandage held to his head as he alternated hands to keep Felicity’s ice pack on her bruised wrist. Oliver came to a stop before them.

‘Ok, what happened? Where is he?’

‘Where were you Oliver? He nearly killed Diggle! I did not sign up for this! I’m just tech support!’ Oliver comforted Felicity as she collapsed back on her chair and looked to Diggle.

‘I don’t know Oliver, one moment he was quiet as ever, the next he just flipped. I didn’t stand a chance.’ Diggle nodded to the back corner, ‘When I arrived he was hiding there, just…asking for you. Constantly, he asked us to get you four or five times. I called you-‘

‘But I didn’t come.’

‘Yeah, that’s when he lost it. Kept muttering your name over and over. He’s not himself.’

‘How’s Star Labs coming along with that cure?’

Felicity turned to her computer, composure somewhat re-established, ‘Well they got the sample you collected and they’re working on it. But honestly, we don’t even know if there is a cure, Oliver. You might have to-‘

‘No. I’m not killing him.’

‘But what if he’s like Slade! He looked like Roy, but he wasn’t Roy.’

‘We stop him, sedate him, and keep him under until we have the cure. I’m not losing another friend to this. Felicity get the venom from the box. Diggle, if you’re up for it I’ll need cover high up, shoot to wound only.’

‘Got it Oliver.’

‘Err, do you know where he’s heading?’

‘No, Felicity. But we’ll find him.’

‘He kept talking about you, he’s probably looking for you now.’

‘Ok, let’s move out!’

They nodded at him and he went to change into the suit as Felicity prepared the mixture for his arrows and Diggle strapped on an extra gun.

 

Roy was wandering the streets, his mind aflame with rage, his world seen through misty eyes of red bloodlust. His mind wanders too, images of Oliver running through his mind’s eye; everything from the past few months: Oliver saving him as the Arrow, Oliver meeting him in the dark alleyways behind the club, in the pumping station, all those meetings when he could just pretend that his lust was nothing more than hero worship, before he knew who the Arrow was. Oliver taking him under his wing; trying to teach him how to control his anger, ignoring him in order to eye-rape the Arrow in his tight fitting costume. And then that moment when Oliver revealed his true identity. The moment it all should have stopped, but it only went crazier. Oliver pressed up against him in the subway tunnel, Oliver watching him as he worked out, Oliver holding his hands as he tried to learn how to shoot a bow. And then Oliver falling off the mixing plant, the memory quietens him for a moment, Oliver clutched to his side as he dragged the older man home to the Glades. Oliver laid out on his bed; shirtless, pants tugged down to reveal it all. Straddling Oliver to kiss him, that final moment of bliss as Roy snuggled up to him. And then a flare of white hot rage as he remembered the days afterwards; guilt, shame, desire, unbridled lust; he felt it all. It would all have been fine, if it hadn’t been for her, it was all her fault; why did she have to tell him everything? The rage inside him was boiling over, searching for an outlet. As his thoughts turned to Thea, his hands curled into balls and he growled, baring his teeth. Four figures wandered into his path and he struck without even thinking. One man was hurled against a car, bones breaking as he screamed in agony, while the next two suffered the same fate, their teeth spilling from their mouths as Roy punched them ruthlessly and repeatedly. The last man made to run off but Roy grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him against a lamppost, impacting with a sickening thud. Stepping over their moaning bodies, he pressed on, his internal compass guiding him through the city. He wasn’t sure where he was going, trusting his instincts, tasting his fury when he pictured Thea’s face, sometimes tempered by sorrow when he thought of Oliver’s rejection. He shook his head and wiped the blood from his knuckles on his jeans.

 

Oliver and Sarah arrived at the bell tower after following Felicity’s sightings of Roy on the traffic cameras. Roy had come here once or twice to meet her before she joined the team, but he didn’t remember that now, just felt it was somewhere safe, somewhere he could stop the screaming in his brain, the images of bloody and beaten bodies and hooded figures in the dark, and needles, a huge machine with countless needles sucking his blood, drip, drip, drip, behind him. And Oliver’s face torturing him; happy, sad, guilty, revolted, angry, over and over and over again, thoughts rushing uncontrollably around his head. He felt sick, felt angry, felt out of control. He needed Oliver, but couldn’t find him anywhere. He knelt on the ground behind a hanging sheet of plastic and curled into a ball, arms wrapped around his knees, hood keeping his ears warm, as he muttered Oliver’s name ceaselessly, rocking back and forth. 

Then he heard it, Oliver’s voice in the room, talking to someone. He stood up and brushed aside the plastic even as the other two raised their weapons. ‘Oliver, there you are.’ Relief flooded Roy’s voice, he almost sounded back to normal, even as the archer eyed him warily. A sudden sound made him drop to a fighting stance as Sarah stood in front of Oliver. Roy growled at her, and dodged her first attack, reaching past her flailing staff to grab her by the neck. Tossing Sarah aside like a ragdoll, he turned back to Oliver, his eyes alight with zeal. 

He didn’t hesitate, pulling an arrow from his quiver, notching and releasing it in seconds, Oliver’s quick glance to Sarah confirmed her head wound. The whistling of the arrow through the air came to an abrupt halt as Roy snatched it before it hit him. He stood there looking at it closely, puzzled, before staring at Oliver with a mixture of rage and hurtfulness. Oliver pulled back his hood and mask before walking forward to the quivering younger man. 

‘Roy? It’s Oliver. See, just like you wanted. It’s going to be ok, but you’re not yourself: it’s the mirakuru. You’ve got to fight this, Roy, you’re a good person. I know you can do it!’  
Roy just looked at him, tilting his head to one side, as though sizing him up. Oliver thought he saw a glimmer of the old Roy in his eyes seconds before he struck. Roy lunged at him, fists aiming for his stomach. Oliver blocked the attack with his bow, but was unprepared for the follow up as Roy grabbed him by the neck and thrust him against the central girder of the bell tower. Oliver gasped as the wind rushed out of him and then screamed in agony as Roy ruthlessly stomped down on his knee. Through watering eyes, Oliver saw him turn back, mutter something about ‘Thea’ and ‘poisoning you against me…’ before he punched a hole in the plasterboard floor and jump down.

 

Roy was hurt and confused and oh so angry. It wasn’t enough that Oliver rejected him once, but that he tried to kill him, tried to take him out like some random thug. But now Roy knew what he had to do: find Thea and destroy her. Without her influence Oliver would like him again, and they could be together. He had to find her, had to remember where she was. His brain struggled to function, swimming in the mirakuru enhanced rage until nothing really made sense anymore. He stumbled across the street, ignoring cars even as irate drivers honked their horns at him. His feet took him on a familiar route, back to the club, arrow still clutched in one hand.

Roy didn’t even see the cops until they were right there in front of him. With one easy swipe he took the officer out, blood splattering against the sidewalk as the man was flung into his car. The other one had drawn his gun, shouting at Roy to drop the arrow and get on his knees. Roy just stared at him, before striking faster than the man could react, plunging the arrow into his chest and pulling the gun from his grasp. Roy stood breathing heavily over their bodies, one moaning in pain, the other lying in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. He dropped the arrow, Oliver’s arrow, and stalked away, even as Oliver himself staggered out of the tower after him. There were tears in his eyes, from the pain of his leg or from the bitter failure of seeing Roy turn into another Slade, he didn’t know.

 

Roy stopped, his hands shaking uncontrollably as his eyes strained to make out the figure in front of him. It was Thea. He growled at her, even as she approached him. 

‘Roy, it’s me. Thank god I found you! I know you’ve been looking for me.’ She sighed, ‘This is all my fault. I should never have told Oliver why we broke up, I should have kept it a secret about you and that guy. I ruined your relationship with Oliver. I get that now. I should be punished, I deserve it. Someone hurts you and you hurt them worse!’

Roy blinked rapidly as his eyes itched and he turned away from Thea. Turning back she was gone. He swept the street but there was no sign of her, only her voice on the wind, ‘You should just kill me.’

 

The club was filling up, political dignitaries, press, business people and other Queen supporters were gathering now, even as Oliver stood in agony beside Diggle, trying to find Roy before Sarah did. Her solution had been a lot more permanent: a bullet in his brain. They argued as he tried to get her to realise that Roy could be saved, the cure could be made in time. She didn’t listen and he was in too much pain to follow her out. Now he gripped the table top and gritted his teeth even as he leaned gingerly on his injured leg. He looked up as Thea passed by and suddenly it all became clear. Everything that had happened over the past few months; the breakdown of Roy and Thea’s relationship was more than just complying by the Arrow’s orders, more than Roy admitting his sexuality, more than an impulsive kiss and a crazy crush. Roy…loved him, or lusted for him. His rejection, his rescue, Roy's demands to see Oliver after the mirakuru leeching, Roy must blame Thea for everything. It made a crazy kind of sense and now they were all here together; it was only a matter of time before Roy came for her. 

Muttering an excuse to a party supporter, he limped down the stairs to Felicity and gathered up all the venom arrows in the case. Felicity handed him a needle full of pain killers and winced as he injected it straight into his leg. ‘Hey! Oliver, that’s not a good idea. Those pants are really tight!’

‘I have to get out there. Now get the rest of the arrows, please.’ He limped over to his suit, leg throbbing, but the pain lessening to a dull ache as he pulled on his leathers. A clatter of gunfire overhead caused him to look up. ‘Now Felicity!’

 

Roy stormed into the club, even as guests ran wildly past him. The security guards put up a decent fight, but he tossed them away like leaves in the wind; their handguns ignored as he pummelled them into unconsciousness. Diggle shoved Thea back towards her mother as he tried to intercept Roy, earning a savage blow to the head for his trouble. Thea stood her ground, hands held out to placate him, even as he advanced towards her with fire in his eyes. 

Roy stood in front of her as she spoke, her words were meaningless to him, rolling across his face as he stared at her. All his rage, all his anger, all his resentment boiled over as he thrust out one hand and grasped her by the throat. Lifting her upright he began to squeeze, his mouth barely open as he whispered to her, ‘This is your fault! He belonged with me! You turned him against me! Now you suffer!’ He continued to squeeze her, his jaw clenching tight as she struggled for air, gasping against his strength, desperately trying to make sense of his words.

‘Roy!’ The voice called across the room. He glanced to one side, Sarah held a gun in one hand, levelled at his head, ‘Roy, put her down.’ He looked at her, weighing his options, even as Thea pleaded with her not to shoot, ‘Please, he’s not in his right mind, he…can’t control…’ She gasped, throat too constricted to continue. Suddenly Roy threw her down hard and moved to attack Sarah. She didn’t hesitate and shot him in the leg. Thea felt her eyes close as blood dripped down her face where she had struck a table and couldn't fight the unconsciousness.

Roy twisted down to grasp the wound, before springing back up and rushing at Sarah, bullets flying past him as he knocked gun from her hands and punching her in the head, driving her back until she was pinned against the counter. He grabbed a metal pole by the VIP section and made as if to beat her with it when another voice shouted across the now empty club.

‘Roy.’ It was Oliver! Roy lowered the pole and let it drop as Sarah slumped to her knees, blood covering her face. Roy turned to Oliver to see him point his bow at his chest. Roy looked lost, glancing between Thea and her brother. ‘Oliver.’ He croaked out the word, throat dry from lack of use. ‘Oliver, I…’

‘I know. But this is how it has to be.’ With the final word Oliver unleashed the five arrows attached to his bow string, watching as three of them found their mark in Roy’s chest, even as he swats two of them out of the way. He looks at Oliver; that hurt expression reminding him of the old Roy. Then he falls slowly, first to one knee, and then the other, and then as Oliver moves forward to hold him, falls into Oliver’s arms.

 

It was several hours later, Roy was once again shirtless on the metal bench in the Arrowcave as Felicity, Diggle and Sarah stood over him. Diggle had just finished inserting the venom IV alongside the standard IV and the less standard heavy restraints. Felicity sighed as she looked down at his bruised but slow breathing form. ‘You know, it might take months before Star Labs have a workable cure, can we really keep him under for that long?’

‘If we have to,’ Oliver limped down the stairs to join them, ‘It’s better than the alternative.’ He said meaningfully to Sarah. ‘We’ll take care of him. I’m not ready to give up on Roy yet. He can still be saved, once we get the cure. Until then we watch him in shifts.’

‘I’ll go first, since I only fractured a wrist!’ Felicity said with a small smile, looking around at the various head, face and leg injuries. ‘You go. It’ll be fine.’ They nodded and left one by one until she was alone with him again, although she did put a venom filled syringe by her desk as she typed.

In the depths of Roy’s mind, he was dreaming. A confused tumble of dreams, over and over and over; repeating themselves as he witnessed flashing images of his time with Oliver, his time without Oliver, and the mirakuru rushing through his veins. Even as he lay on the warm metal bench, still apart from the slow rise and fall of his chest, his mind was aflame with one overriding image: Oliver holding him in his arms after shooting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot is taken from the episode itself (S02E20), with obvious changes to make the story fit. Made Roy a little more vulnerable and insane than they did though. Hope you enjoyed!


	12. Chapter 12

Oliver spends more time watching over Roy than doing anything else. He doesn't want to think about his mother's death, Thea drifting away, Slade gaining power, Roy almost dying, again. He whiles away the long hours of the night sitting by his side, lost in his thoughts. Sometimes he’s standing there, staring at the young man’s torso, not even realising until some sound startles him and he moves his gaze. Other times he finds himself examining the unmoving body minutely, not with any ill intent, but rather noting the perfect symmetry of his face, the sturdiness of his jaw line, even slackened in his unconscious state, the way his eyes were perfectly level with the tips of his ears, the base of his nostrils with the bottom of his ears, one side matching the other. The more Oliver stared at him, the more he realised that Roy was probably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. 

That took him by surprise, because he didn’t feel any sexual response, just a deep settling in his stomach, a brief tingle before…nothing. Maybe it was because Roy was in this state; completely out of it, bound to the table by restraints, IVs in both arms, face devoid of emotion. Oliver missed that about him; Roy’s face was always full of emotion, even if most of the time it was scowling at him. Oliver sighed to himself, brushing the edge of Roy’s chin with his thumb, feeling the prickle of stubble. He stopped himself, one finger tapping on his lip before going into the living area and grabbing his shaving equipment.

Oliver placed a bowl of water next to Roy and attached a new blade to his razor. Taking a cloth he carefully washed Roy’s face, wetting his cheeks, chin, jawline and upper lip. He then squeezed out some shaving foam onto his hand and lathered up. Oliver paused for a second, razor in hand, before he began to shave the younger man. At first he was careful, gentle movements down and rinse off, then gained confidence and made more determined strokes as he moved around to get a better position. Oliver grabbed the cloth and again washed Roy’s face, noting with satisfaction that he had avoided cutting him. He patted him dry, sprayed some aftershave onto his palms, before gently tapping his hands on Roy’s cheeks. Standing back Oliver nodded to himself. 

After he had put everything back he came out to find Felicity setting up in front of the computer.

‘Morning.’

‘Good morning, Oliver. No change?’

‘No. He’s still the same, thankfully.’ Oliver paused hands in his pockets, ‘Any word from Star Labs?’

‘Oh, yeah, I meant to say it to you last night. They’re pretty close, I think. Sometime in the next week or two.’

‘Good. Well I’m off.’

Felicity walked with him to the stairs, reaching out to touch his arm before he went up, ‘Oliver? Get some sleep.’

‘Right. I mean, I'll try.’

Felicity turned around and stopped, sniffing the air, something was different. She walked over to Roy and leant over his face taking a breath.

‘Oliver?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Did you...shave him?’

‘Uh…well.’ He stopped, Felicity was giving him her judgemental eyebrow. ‘He’s always clean shaven and, uh, smooth.’

‘And?’

‘Something he mentioned a while ago, said he didn’t like having a beard, or stubble.’ Oliver took a breath before stopping midway through his sentence, ‘I…it’s something I can do while we wait for the cure.’

‘Right. Just…Get some sleep, Oliver.’

 

The weeks ground slowly on until it seemed that Roy had been lying there for months. Even after they had to move him and the contents of the Arrowcave when Oliver lost control of Queen Consolidated, it was the same every night: Oliver sat up late watching him, thinking about everything, Slade, Roy, and the damned mirakuru. It was only when Felicity eagerly called him late one Thursday that everything changed. The ‘cure’ had been created at last, and while experimental in the extreme, it gave Oliver a chance to undo some of the damage done and hopefully halt Slade once and for all. 

‘Star Labs aren’t exactly sure what the side effects are, or what the right dose is for a human. It’s a lot of guess work right now.’

‘It’s ok Felicity, it’s a hell of a lot more than we had yesterday. When are they shipping it?’

‘They’re sending an advance supply in twelve hours via armoured courier and the rest of the batch twelve hours after that. If it works-‘

‘It’ll work. It has to, or we won’t be able to stop Slade and his army.’

‘Right, Oliver. We better make sure that shipment gets here safely. Where do you want me?’

‘Diggle, you escort them in once they cross the state line, I’ll watch them when they hit the city limit; that’s when Slade will likely attack. Felicity, hold down the fort here in the bell tower and run surveillance. I’ll need a lot of eyes in the sky.’

‘Got it.’

They separated out, getting ready for the mission, Oliver stood beside Roy, tapping gently on the table. ‘Just a few more hours, Roy. You’re going to be fine. You have to be.’

 

Fourteen Hours Later

Oliver laid down the silver case on the workman’s table in front of him, unclasping the lid with ease and looking down at the four syringes filled with glowing blue liquid nestled in black foam. The battle to secure them had been hard fought and Diggle had been left with a bloody nose, Oliver the usual cuts and slowly showing bruises. Diggle and Felicity stood nearby as Oliver took out the first syringe nodding at Roy, ‘Better take off his shirt, I’m not sure if this goes in through a vein or the chest, straight to the heart?’

Felicity shrugged and moved to help Diggle. They gently laid him back down on the table, removing the restraints from his legs and arms as they did so. At Oliver’s nod, Felicity carefully removed the IVs and stood back.

‘Uh, if this goes bad…’

‘Oliver.’

‘You guys should leave.’

‘But…’

‘Oliver, I…’

‘No.’ He turned to face them, ‘If this goes bad, I’ll have to kill him. You don’t want to see that. Frankly I don’t need an audience for this.’

Diggle looks at Felicity and both nod reluctantly, ‘Ok, Oliver. We’ll be back at the reserve HQ. Call us…Call us if he wakes up.’

‘Thanks.’ 

 

Oliver watched them leave through the open window before turning back to the case and Roy. He searches for a vein before carefully injecting the solution into Roy. Nothing happens for a few minutes, but then as Oliver begins to turn away in despair, he sees a twitch. Roy’s fingers begin to tremble, then curl up, release and curl up again. His chest rose and fell noticeably more and his eyes could be seen rolling around in their sockets as if he was dreaming. Oliver leans over him, waiting with bated breath to see if it was enraged Roy, or normal Roy. 

The younger man’s eyes open a fraction, enough to see what’s going on, but not enough to make Oliver think he’s actually awake. Roy sees him, hovering just out of reach, his face so close and those tasty lips so near. He reaches up suddenly and kisses Oliver hard; one hand reaching around to pull him in, the other against the cool metal table to steady himself. Oliver’s strangled yelp is ignored by Roy who unleashes the full force of his passion. He pushes Oliver to the floor and climbs eagerly on top of him. Again he attacks Oliver’s lips, his tongue forcing the man’s mouth open, until at last Roy has gained entry. Oliver relaxes for half a second as he feels Roy grin against him, the emotion evaporates as Roy’s hands burrow into the archer’s tight pants and rip apart the leather covering his chest and navel. Oliver heaves against Roy, trying to buck him off, but to no avail. Finally Roy breaks the kiss and moves his mouth down Oliver’s jaw towards his bare chest. Oliver looks around rapidly and spots the heavy metal case the ‘cure’ was brought in. Stretching for it, Roy ignores him and begins to rub Oliver’s tight, bulging pants with lustful glee. The crashing of the workman’s table goes completely unnoticed by Roy, whose hands are going everywhere, even as he grinds against Oliver’s muscled body.

Oliver manages to grasp the handle of the case and swings it hard against Roy’s head. The impact dazes him and Oliver scrabbles up. Brushing himself off, he looks down at the shirtless young man and shakes his head. Oliver takes another syringe and quickly injects Roy for a second time, before standing well back. This time his eyes open fully and he gingerly sits up. 

 

Roy looked around, he was on the uneven floor of the bell tower; shirtless, a little cold, his head ached unbearably, and there was Oliver, watching him carefully. Roy stared at him, his archer costume was ripped and open, his shirt completely torn in half and his lips were bruised looking. Roy tried to remember what had happened, but it was all blurry. He remembered going to Central City…and being lured in. Then…Oliver rescued him? Again. He shuddered at the memory of all those needles sticking into him, sucking him dry. But, then… Was there a kiss? Or was that just in his mind? Then the rest of it is blanked out in a haze of red. Oliver had… or was it? He couldn’t remember anything else. 

Roy stood up carefully, leaning against the table for support as he looked around again. He shivered when he saw the empty needles on the floor and rubbed his forearms uncomfortably as his fingers passed over the sensitive areas punctured by weeks of constant injections. He looked up at Oliver. 

‘What happened? Why are we here?’

‘It’s a long story. I have a lot to fill you in on.’ Oliver smiled at him, relieved that Roy was himself again. The younger man looked confused and a little cold. ‘Here, your shirt. Um, what’s the last thing you remember?’

Roy pulled the t-shirt over his head, thinking about the question. A sudden swooping in his stomach caused him to bend over.

‘Uh…you ok? Hungry maybe?’

‘Yeah…must be it.’ But it wasn’t, Roy had just remembered what set it all off. His stupid attempt at kissing Oliver and then running away, only to get captured. ‘Oliver.’

‘Hmm?’ Oliver turned to look at him, seeing the serious expression on his face, ‘What is it?’

‘I…I’m sorry.’ Roy cleared his throat, accepting a bottle of water from the archer, ‘I never should have tried to kiss you. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

Oliver shook his head and quickly closed the gap, pulling Roy into a strong hug, mouth moving downwards to capture the younger man’s. Bodies pressed tight against each other, grinding hard, pulling clothes off quickly and rushed, kisses hot and rough….

‘Roy? Hey!’ Oliver walked across the room, Roy had been speaking to him one moment before suddenly stopping and gazing off into space. Oliver gently slapped Roy on the cheek. ‘Roy?’

‘Uh, what?’ He jerked his head at the contact, the images fading rapidly from his mind. ‘Uh, I don’t…’

‘Maybe you should lie down?’

‘No,’ He pushed Oliver’s guiding hands away, ‘I’ve done enough lying. In both senses of the word.’ He looked at Oliver, ‘Do you, can you, forgive me?’

‘Of course, we all make mistakes.’ Oliver said quickly, ignoring the little voice in his mind as it whispered treacherous words, ‘Mistake? Not if you enjoyed it.’

‘Oliver?’

‘Hmm, what is it?’

‘Uh, can I go home? You can catch me up on everything when I get back. There’s something I need to do, well, someone I need to talk to.’

Thea. Of course. ‘Sure, I’ll have Felicity send you the address of our temporary base. A lot’s gonna happen over the next few hours.’

 

Roy turned to go but Oliver held out a hand to stop him, ‘Hey, uh, before you go, I have something for you.’

Roy shook his head vigorously to clear the lewd image forming in his mind as Oliver took something red from his pocket.

‘What? You don’t want it?’

‘No! I mean,’ Roy placed his hands on the side of his face and crouched down. ‘Stop it!’

‘Stop what? Hey, Roy, talk to me.’ Oliver knelt down beside Roy, trying to get him to talk. Nothing seemed to work, so Oliver held out his arms and put them carefully around Roy’s shivering body. ‘Ooof!’ Roy fell into his arms, his shoulders shaking as he buried his head against Oliver’s neck. The archer tensed up for a moment before realising that Roy was too emotional to be making a move on him. 

 

Oliver holds him for nearly half an hour, until Roy sniffles and pulls back, his head low, avoiding Oliver’s gaze.

‘…mmh sorry,’ Roy spoke in a small voice, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.

‘It’s ok.’ Oliver held out the red object he had tried to give to Roy before, ‘Here, take it. I had it made for you, you know, if you wanted to join the team for real?’

Roy’s face broke out into the first genuine smile Oliver had ever seen as he carefully took the mask and felt the red fabric. ‘Thanks.’

‘Hey, if you’re gonna run with us full time, you’ll need a real suit!’

Roy nods sheepishly as he looks down at the mask. Did this mean he and Oliver were…friends? Were they actually accepting him? He glanced up at Oliver’s smiling face and back down at the mask.

‘Thanks, Oliver. I mean it. But, I, ah, still have stuff to do, you know?’

‘Uh, sure. I’ll see you later.’

Roy walked down the stairs a little unsteadily, resting now and again as he felt his muscles tense up after lying down for so long. Oliver watched him limp down the street until he disappeared around the corner. He left out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. He quickly picked up the spent needles and tossed them into the suitcase. Closing it up and pulling the torn pieces of his jacket together, Oliver slipped out of the bell tower and onto his bike. Speed dialling Felicity, he roared away into the night.

‘Hey, it’s Oliver.’

‘I know.’

‘Right. Uh, Roy’s ok, well, getting there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He was all over the place. There’s definitely some side effects from the cure, plus it wasn’t strong enough. I had to give him two shots to stop him from…’

‘From? Oliver are you there?’

‘Yeah. Um. When he first woke up, he was…ah different, aggressive. He attacked me.’

‘Oh god. Are you ok? Well obviously you’re ok if you’re talking to us. Did the second shot work better?’

‘Definitely. He was a lot more emotional, but I’m not planning on giving Slade’s goons a hug every time we shoot them.’

Felicity raised her eyes at Diggle and mouthed the word ‘hug’ at him. He shrugged and turned back to the call. 

‘Where is he now, Oliver?’

‘He said he had to go back to his place. He probably wants to call Thea.’

‘You think that’s a good idea?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. He doesn’t have his strength anymore. Could barely walk home.’ Oliver swerved past a stationary car as another driver honked at him. ‘Listen, we'll meet up with you guys in about an hour. His phone should be back on, Felicity, so give him the address. I’ll explain the battle plan then.’

 

Roy slowed his pace as he came close to his house, stopping as he walked up to the front door. He felt under the lintel panel for his hidden spare key and opened the door. He was surprised to see that there were no mounds of junk mail on the floor, but everything was neatly stacked by his sofa. He also realised that most of it had been opened and felt a blush spread up his face as he spotted a package he had ordered several weeks before had been half opened and then quickly re-sealed when whoever, likely Felicity, had realised what it contained. Thankfully his embarrassment was contained to that one stack where, also opened, all of his "Freshmen" magazines. Wonderful. Expect awkward stares and random fits of giggles from now until next year. Ugh. Roy covered his eyes with his palms and sighed. 

The kitchen had been tidied up and his fridge partly stocked, his bathroom cleaned and his bed made. He felt a bit strange about having someone come in and walk around his house, touch his stuff, see his whole life laid bare for them. But at the same time it was nice to know that they cared about him. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and fished it out.

‘HQ directions incoming, see you in one hour. Glad you’re ok! xxx.’

He quickly noted the new address and responded, ‘Thanks. See you guys in a bit.’

 

Roy sat down on his sofa and scrolled down the address book. Selecting the number he hovered over the call button for a few seconds, biting down on his lip as he considered. Finally he pressed it and held the phone up to his ear. Three rings. Four. Five. Just as he was about to give up, the tone chimed and an out of breath voice came on the line.

‘Hey, Roy! Sorry ‘bout that, was just in the shower.’

‘Oh. Uh, no it’s ok.’

‘So, what’s up? I haven’t heard from you in a while.’

‘Are you at home?’

‘Yeah. All alone too!’ Roy could almost hear the grin in the voice, ‘You wanna come over?’

‘No. Well, yeah, but I can’t.’

‘Oh, that’s cool.’

There was silence on the line for a moment, then Roy sighed. ‘Hey, Kyle, listen. I know we’re not exactly friends, but-‘

‘What? No, dude. I like you. A lot. You did kinda run off for a while but, hey, you’re back now. Right?’

‘Uh, yeah. But seriously, you gotta get out of town.’

‘What?’

‘Look, I know it sounds insane, but there’s gonna be a huge battle in a few hours and I don’t want anyone I care about in danger.’

‘Huh.’

‘Kyle?’ Roy closed his eyes, leaning back, watching as his mind’s eye pulled up Kyle’s image from his memories and mix it in with that of Oliver’s. ‘Kyle, please trust me.’

‘Ok. But what about you?’

‘I…I’ll explain it all when everything is normal. But you need to leave now.’

‘Yeah, alright. I have a cousin in Blüdhaven, is that far enough?’

‘Perfect. Look…’

‘You don’t have to say it. I know you’ve got something going on with that Oliver guy you talked about, so let’s, let’s just leave it as friends.’

‘Uh, if that’s what you want?’

Now it was Kyle’s turn to sigh. ‘Yeah…sure.’ He replied reluctantly. ‘I better go. Thanks, Roy.’

Roy let him hang up and slowly replayed the conversation in his mind. ‘…you’ve got something going on with that Oliver guy…’ 

Roy sighed to himself, ‘Man, I wish…’


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really just a filler chapter before getting into the re-interpretation of season three, bridging the gap between the two seasons; the siege and Roy without the mirakuru.

One Week after the Siege.

 

Roy pulled the edges of his hoodie together and zipped them up, the cold wind whipped around the park, tearing through the light fabric. At least it wasn’t raining, yet. He hadn’t thought to bring a jacket. These last few days, mopping up the remnants of Slade’s army, getting back into archer training with Oliver, finding out what happened to Thea and Oliver’s mother, it hadn’t left him much time to think, time to notice how cold it was getting as winter drew closer. Taking the afternoon off felt like a luxury, but he needed to talk to Kyle. The other man had left him a load of calls and texts and voicemails during the siege, when the "military" had arrived and after Slade had been taken down. In fact he had been talking about an incoming air strike right after Diggle had confirmed it with ARGUS. 

 

Roy didn’t tell Oliver about it though. Things had been strange between them since the fighting stopped. At first he thought that Oliver was still angry with him for the kiss, but it had to be more than that. Oliver avoided eye contact, avoided being alone with him, had a wariness about him that Roy couldn’t understand. Of course it didn’t help that he had some memory gaps. Sure, Felicity had told him that he had been kept sedated since his rescue from Slade’s mirakuru factory, but there was something niggling at the back of his mind, some slippery thought that he just couldn’t hold onto. Every time he thought about those weeks a fog came over his mind, images flashing by in red mist, unclear, sometimes from his perspective, other times as if he’s watching himself from above.

 

Roy shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind as he saw the familiar figure of Kyle cross the grass towards him. He was wearing a dark coat, open at the collar revealing an equally dark suit and tie. Roy frowned as he realised that it was the middle of the day, working with Oliver had been almost always a night thing, he didn't really have "normal working hours". He held up his hand and waved Kyle over.

‘Hey.’

‘Roy! Good to see you,’ a smile breaking out across his otherwise serious features, ‘Sorry about the delay. Were you waiting long?’

‘No, it’s ok.’ Roy stood in front of him as the seconds stretched out. Kyle tilted his head, eyes winding up and down Roy’s body, coming to a rest on his face. ‘So…’

‘Uh, I’m glad you’re ok.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You told me to get out of town pretty quick. It's been a while since I heard that kind of urgency.'

'Has that happened to you before?'

'A few times.' He grinned at Roy's confused face, 'I, uh, volunteered abroad for two years: Middle East, pretty dodgy at times.'

'Right. At least you got out of Starling in time.'

'Yeah, no shit. I was literally just in the door of my cousin's place and then I hear about this insane battle between some sort of supersoldier army and…a group of superheroes?’

‘That’s what the news said.’

‘Right.’ Kyle raised an eyebrow at him, ‘You expect me to believe that you just knew that was going to happen?’

‘Um, I could explain, but I don’t think you’d believe me.’

‘You might be surprised.’ He looked around the near empty park. ‘Hey, if it’s something secret, we should go sit by the fountain. No one will overhear us then.’

‘You have many secret meetings in the park?’ Roy asked with a laugh.

‘Hehe, coming?’ Kyle offered his hand. Roy looked between it and his sparkling eyes before nodding and clasping his hand, intertwining their fingers. Together they walked slowly down the path, trees blowing leaves around them until they reached a large marble fountain in the middle of the park. A stone square had been built around it with numerous benches scattered between the grassy playing fields and the tree line. Five paths intersected here with each leading to a different part of the city. It was deserted as the wind picked up, grey clouds scurrying across the sky.

 

Kyle was right, Roy thought, as the water gurgled noisily out of the bronze fish statues around them. No one could hear them now. He let go of the man’s hand and sat down on a stone bench in front of the streams of water. Kyle hitched up his coat and sat beside him. Roy moved a little closer until he was snug against him, sheltering from the wind.

‘Hey, um, I’m sorry for not getting back to you until now. I, uh, had stuff to do. Important stuff.’

‘Sure, I get it. I was just worried, you know? A lot of people died, a lot of people got hurt. I didn't know where you were. Didn't know if you were ok, while I was safe.’

‘Yeah. It could’ve been worse though,’ Roy paused looking over at Kyle, choosing his words with care, ‘especially if that, uh, air strike had hit.’

‘Yeah.’

‘News didn’t know about that until hours after everything was over. Hell, even the heroes…probably didn’t know about it so soon.’

‘Uh, huh.’

‘You’re gonna make me ask, aren’t you?’ Roy turned to face him full on, even as Kyle looked away from him, seemingly interested in the water patterns. He gently touched the side of Kyle’s face. ‘Hey, don’t you trust me?’

‘I do, even though I shouldn’t.’

‘What?’

‘I barely know you. Sure, we slept together a few times and talk a bit now and again, but honestly, Roy, I don’t know where you live, what you do, how you know the things you know. Why you feel like you need to lie to me.’

‘Are you a spy?’

‘Huh?’ It was Kyle’s turn to look at him in surprise, ‘why would you think that?’

‘Mind reader maybe? You knew that air strike was coming, you called me about minutes before…’

‘Yeah? Before what? You want me to tell you how I knew, you tell me first.’

Roy turned away, looking up as the water danced in the sunlight breaking through the clouds, a thousand little rainbows sparkling around the park. He knew he couldn’t tell Kyle about the mirakuru, Oliver being the Arrow, the Arrowcave, being tricked into supplying the mirakuru for Slade's soldiers, all the secrets he had built up over the past few months. But…maybe sharing some of it would make sense? Make his head stop feeling so full; he had enough going on trying to figure Oliver out.

 

‘Ok. A while ago…something happened to me. I was kidnapped, I guess you could say. Although no one cared enough to notice I was gone. The guy who had me, he was gonna kill me. But then the, uh, vigilante rescued me.’

Kyle was watching him intently as he spoke, explaining about how he came to admire the Arrow, desire to be like him, save people; mixing truth with lies. ‘When the supersoldiers were released on Starling City, the Arrow came to me, asked if I could join them that night, you know, lend a hand.’

‘Do you know who he is?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘Of course, so you were with them then, that night?’

‘Yeah, they had a contact in the military. They knew there was going to be an air strike from her.’

Kyle nodded as if it all made sense to him, Roy frowned at him; it shouldn’t be this easy, should it?

‘My turn, I guess. Roy, when I met you in Verdant that night, when you broke up with your girlfriend?’ Roy nodded at him, ‘And then again, the few times after that, I was interested. You surprised me, there was just something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. So I used the resources I had available to find out a little more.’

‘What resources? Who are you?’

‘Tell me, have you heard of ARGUS?’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, so I know you’re a lot more than just support for the Arrow when he might need it. You're his apprentice, his...sidekick.’

‘I didn’t mean to lie to you, I just-‘

‘I know and I understand. It’s hard to gauge how much to tell people. Guess we both bent the truth, there.’ He grinned at Roy, ‘And I can’t tell you too much, of course.’

‘What do you do in ARGUS?’

‘Uh, let’s call it "Intelligence and Asset Management".’

‘That told me nothing.’

‘That’s the point. Suffice to say, I know a lot of things about a lot of people. And I know a lot about your work with the Arrow.’

‘Oh?’ Roy looked nervously at him.

‘I know Team Arrow has four active members; two archers, a gunner, a tech. I know where you operate from, and I can guess who bankrolls you, although given his recent financial collapse I have to wonder how.’

‘Uh, do you know who the Arrow is?’

‘No. I don’t want to know. Once I do,’ Kyle stopped speaking, his eyes gazing into space, ‘he stops being a hero and just becomes a man. Fallible. Mortal. Defeatable. And we need him to be so much more than that.’ He looked back at Roy, a fire in his eyes. ‘There’s a lot of dangerous people out there. It’s easier to think of him as our guardian, our protector, if he doesn’t have a family, parents, siblings, girlfriend, boyfriend. Because then you worry, you wonder if he’s going to be okay, you wonder how it must be like to keep it a secret, all alone with all that pressure.’

‘We’re not talking about the Arrow, are we? I can take care of myself, I’ve been trained and I’m getting better every day. You don’t need to worry about me.’

‘Is it stupid that I’d like to?’

‘Uh,’ Roy’s answer caught in his throat, no one had worried about him for a long time, no one had seen beneath his armour, that surliness that he put out to protect himself from getting too close to other people. Even when he was with Thea, he kept more than one part closed off. Trying to be with Oliver, he felt that maybe at last he could be himself. Maybe he could still be? He wanted Oliver, wanted him so bad, wanted him in a way the archer didn’t, probably never would. Well, it was hard to tell with Oliver. But here was this guy, he said it himself; they had fucked a few times, talked even less, but he wanted to care. And Roy kinda wanted him to.

 

‘Sorry, Roy. I came on too strong, again. You said you just wanted to be friends, nothing else.’ He got up to leave. Roy stood up after him and grabbed his arm.

‘No, wait! Kyle, I…Me and Oliver, it’s just a dream. I tried to make it happen, and he just…he pushed me away.’ Kyle turned to face him, a smile playing about his lips as Roy frowned at him. ‘What?’

‘You know, that’s generally why we don’t go after straight guys. Most of the time they’re not interested.’

‘But some of the time?’

‘It depends.’ He shrugged, ‘Hey, you look freezing. I know a café round the corner. You wanna go?’

‘Don’t you have to get back to work?’

‘I can take the time. They know where to find me.’

‘You work in Starling City?’ Roy took his hand again as they walked out of the fountain square towards the street.

‘Yeah, small operation. But it pays to keep an eye on the most turbulent city on this side of the Atlantic. Malcolm Merlyn, Slade Wilson, who the hell are we gonna get next? Not to mention all the other nut jobs who seem to make Starling their home.’ He sighed, ‘Thankfully the Arrow and his team are here to hold the line, and push them back when they dare to cross it.’

‘Sounds like an awesome team!’

‘Well, they really have the red archer to thank for it all! He's just so strong and brave and handsome!’ Roy laughed at him as he nudged him in the ribs. Kyle burst into laughter and fought to get out of range.

‘Oh! Ticklish are we?’

‘Yow! Stop it!’

‘Something to remember for later, then!’

Roy stopped and Kyle moved closer to him, head bowed as their lips pressed together. Roy leant against him as he felt the man’s hands cradle his face gently. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the image of Oliver’s face as it swam accusingly in front of him. They broke the kiss before anyone noticed them and proceeded to walk out of the park gates.


	14. Chapter 14

The training sessions were more intense, more straining, more demanding than what little he could remember of it before. Roy wiped the sweat from his brow as he stretched his right arm, feeling it tremble a little. Oliver, standing opposite him, noticed, ‘Hey, when was the last time you ate?’

‘I’m fine,’ Roy responded wearily, everyday Oliver was riding him hard, and not in the positive, life-affirming way. Oliver watched him even as a sly smile appeared, confused.

‘Hey, Roy? Go eat something, I can’t train you like this.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fine, okay.’ He turned back before climbing the stairs, ‘Hey Oliver, you wanna join me? I got some new ideas for that suit you promised me.’

‘Uh, what?’

‘Remember? Before the siege began, in the bell tower, you said that if I became part of the team you’d get me a suit.’

‘Um. Ok, sure. Guess you can’t run around in a hoodie all the time.’

‘Sweet, so I was thinking…’

 

Another training session, this time with short staves, more like wooden batons really. Roy tosses one up and down, noting the balance as Oliver takes a pair for himself.

‘Uh, Oliver? Why are we training with these?’

‘Hand to hand is good, but you need to improve your hand to eye co-ordination. Plus you never know when you’ll have to fight without your bow.’

Roy sighs, but silent agrees, feeling his blood race as Oliver throws off his shirt. The archer indicates that Roy do the same and he quickly unzips his jacket, bare chested underneath it. Both now shirtless they circle each other, looking for an opening. The fighting is fierce, the loud clacking of wood on wood as they clash with each other. Roy lets his guard slip for a moment, eyes distracted by a bead of sweat dripping down Oliver’s muscled abs, instead of watching his hands, and Oliver strikes. Thwack! Roy reels backward and Oliver drops the staves as he rushes forward, not intending to hit him so hard. Roy’s eyes are blurry as he looks down to see a constant stream of blood pouring from his nose onto his hands, feeling the panic in his suddenly increased breathing. As Oliver approaches he struggles to relax, closing his eyes and concentrating on deep even breaths, even as slumps to the floor. It was early morning with no one else in the Arrowcave and he focuses on the slow rhythmic beeps of the computers. His nose hurts like hell and the blood still flows freely as he opens his eyes to see Oliver’s concerned face staring down at him, icepack in hand. Roy gingerly touches it, wincing at the pain. 

‘Here, tilt your head back,’ Oliver’s strong hands lift him up and hold him backwards, one hand on his back the other reaching for the icepack. Roy leans back as Oliver kneels beside him, essentially holding him in his lap. Roy closes his eyes as pain again flares up when the coolness touches his throbbing nose. ‘I’m sorry, Roy.’ Oliver murmurs, training forgotten, ‘The bleeding will stop soon.’ Roy mumbles incoherently in response, his words thick as he leans against Oliver's chest. He notices that Oliver has started rubbing slow circles on his back with his thumb, unconsciously soothing him. Despite the pain, Roy savours the moment.

 

Later in Kyle’s apartment where he sometimes stays, Roy is staring at the fire, reliving the morning’s training. Eyes closed and head tilted back as he casually plays with himself through his sweatpants. The door clicks open, heralding his boyfriend’s return. 

‘What the hell happened to you?’ 

‘Uh, just training. It’s fine.’ Roy replies thickly, his voice still distorted. 

‘Right, ‘cos lisping is a normal part of your training. Let me have a look.’ He sits on the couch and Roy turns to face him, feeling his cool fingers delicately examine him. 

‘Cold out?’

‘Yeah, a little. Autumn’s nearly over. Ok. I’ve a first aid kit in the kitchen.’

‘The Arrow said it was fine.’ Roy called out as Kyle got up.

‘Yeah, it’s not broken, but it’s beginning to drip again. Haven’t you noticed?’

Roy looked down and saw the leather of the couch was smeared with blood, dark red and tacky, how did he not know? Too horny thinking about Oliver, luckily Kyle didn’t seem to notice. He sat still as Kyle rolled up two pieces of gauze and gently pushed them into his nostrils, securing them with tape. ‘Now.’

‘I can’t breathe.’

‘Yes you can. Slowly, just relax. Come here.’ Roy let Kyle pull him closer and relaxed into his arms. Was it wrong that he thought about Oliver when he did this? Was he a bad person that as he drifted off he pretended that it was the Arrow holding him close, nursing his wounds, being there like he was this morning?

These thoughts were not new to Roy. He had them every time he and Kyle were together, even when they were doing mundane things like eating dinner or walking in the park outside his apartment. He’d close his eyes and imagine it was Oliver doing all of those things with him. Making out with Kyle, being fucked by him, Roy still thinks of Oliver, still feels for him, that desire to be with him. Doesn’t stop the guilt from rising though when he realises that he’s thinking about another guy when his boyfriend is doing the most intimate thing possible, when he finishes and whispers the words Roy loves to hear, yet wished they just remained unsaid, ‘I love you, Roy!’ Rolling over and settling into his arms as he holds onto him tightly, feeling his heart beat so close, drifting off and still thinking about Oliver, always feeling some more memories come back to him just before he drifts off to sleep and forgets all about them again. 

His dreams are strange, visions of homoeroticism and warped realities, images and almost memories of things he did with other people, so close to being real he’d almost believe they were, if not for the strange places and cities and times he visited. There was one dream that kept coming back to him. It was pleasant, not a nightmare; he was on a date, of sorts, more like a vacation perhaps, with another man. In the dream he was almost certain it was Oliver, but waking up he couldn’t remember. The man’s face was gone, just the thoughts of where they were and what they had been doing, and that deep gut feeling that it was the man he wanted so much, the man who trusted him and gave him a second chance, even though he felt that crushing guilt for not feeling the same way about Kyle. 

But then, Roy reasoned, that’s what their relationship was based on: secrets. It wasn’t that he felt nothing for Kyle, it was just that he felt so much more for Oliver, that thrill in his stomach when he thought about Oliver naked, that sudden throbbing hardon when he watched Oliver training shirtless, the sweat dripping down his muscled body, the sharpness of his sweat whenever the archer stood beside him after a hard workout. Roy was sure Oliver knew it, could see the outline of his hard cock and just ignored it. At least he never mentioned it. As for Kyle, Roy knew there were things the man didn’t tell him. He could see it in that thirty second bridge when he got in the door from work. He was grim and serious and looking into his eyes was like peering onto the slopes of hell. It made Roy shudder. But then he changed, laughing and talking and kissing him. Roy didn’t really want to know what Kyle did all day. Then there were the phone calls late at night, at least when Roy was with him, and not out with Oliver and the team. The calls that woke him up at two and three, the whispered conversations in an ice cold tone that always ended with ‘I’m on my way.’ But Roy would let him have his secrets if it meant he could keep his own.

 

It was a wet windy Saturday and for once neither of them were needed in work. Oliver had sent everyone away for the day as he went to see what assets his family had left around the country. Kyle had mentioned that a major operation had just ended and he wouldn’t be needed for a few days. Good thing too, Roy mused, the man looked exhausted. They were sitting in front of the fire, brainstorming ideas for Roy’s new suit as the Red Arrow. He hadn’t been thrilled with the name, but it made sense: he was the Green Arrow’s sidekick. As for the suit? Well Oliver had dragged his heels on it and at first Roy was inclined to agree with him. Kyle, however, had other ideas.

‘Look, you're great in a hoodie, you look hot in anything!’ Roy grinned at him, as Kyle continued, ‘but seriously dude, you’re not safe in just that when there’s guys running around with guns and swords and bows and who knows what else. I’m not saying to pile on the Kevlar, but we need to get you something stronger than this.’ He finishes, tugging on the soft fabric of Roy’s hoodie. ‘Keep it as a souvenir of when you were just the “support.”’

‘Well, what do you have in mind?’

‘You move around a lot, so it needs to be lightweight, but sturdy enough to cushion you when you fall or take damage. You’re an archer so ranged combat is your thing, but a quiver is limited, I’m thinking some additional weapons just in case. You need to hide your identity-’

‘The Arrow gave me the mask.’

‘Yeah, that’s a good point, couple it with a hood and your identity should be safe. Now, materials. How do you feel about Kevlar, by the way?’

‘Isn’t that heavy and stiff?’

‘Can be, hmm, how about dragon skin armour?’

Roy stared at him, ‘What? Dragons aren’t real, Kyle.’

‘I know that.' He sighed, 'it’s a lighter, flexible type of ballistics vest. Mostly used by private contractors and…ARGUS. I have a suit of it, when I need to be on the ground. I can get you some, if you want?’

‘How? Is it expensive?’

Kyle mumbled something before raising his voice, ‘…yeah, I wouldn’t exactly be going through traditional procurement lines for it. But it’s nearly impenetrable.’

‘Sounds interesting.’ Roy stared out the window, his mind wandering to Oliver, half listening as Kyle talked about the differences in body armours. Where was Oliver now? What was he doing? When would he see him again?

‘Of course, I do know someone who can get you a suit of modified, reinforced leather armour in half the time.’

‘Ok, now I’m listening.’ Roy turned back to him, Oliver forgotten for the time being.

‘Nice.’ Kyle frowned at him, ‘It’d be tight, fitting you exactly, so you can move better.’

‘How tight?’

‘Like body defining tight, like don’t get hard while wearing tight ‘cos then everyone will see your junk kinda tight.’

‘How do you know this guy, again?’ Roy grinned at him, his eyebrows raising flirtatiously. 

‘Asset Management, remember? Anyway, the top part would need to be insulated, maybe a two piece: vest and outer jacket, with the hood attached on the outside. The pants, like I said, really tight, and maybe laced together for that extra flexibility…’

‘You’ve thought about this way too much. Is that what you do in ARGUS, design superhero costumes?’

He laughed, ‘I wish my job were that easy! But yeah, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Come on, let me show you some drawings.’

Roy’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he followed Kyle out of the sitting room into his office, staring as the man pressed his thumb up to an otherwise unremarkable patch of wall. The door seal hissed as it released and it swung open, lights flickering on. Roy went in first and looked around. The office was larger than he expected, the walls thick and soundproofed. The one window faced the park, triple glazed, soundproofed, probably bulletproof, too. He hadn’t been in here before. One wall was covered in a blank whiteboard, another was lined with shelves: books ranging from political theory to gun maintenance to bomb disposal. His attention was drawn to the far wall, where a bank of computer terminals were assembled: a quiet hum belying their true power. He sat down at the file covered desk as Kyle pulled out a stack of paper from a drawer.

‘Here, look through these and see what you think. When I was in college I used to doodle constantly. You’d be surprised at the things you can come up with when you’re trying not to listen to lecturers!’

Roy shifted through them, looking at the carefully labelled and detailed drawings of boats, planes, cars, tanks, siege weapons, guns and something that was called a ‘Sun Killer,’ beside equally detailed notes about political systems, wars and militaries.

‘What did you study in college? Master Villainy?’

‘International Relations, mostly. Kinda the same thing. Here we go.’ He had wakened two of the monitors and was pulling up schematics and designs for what he had designated ‘Project Unbreakable.' Roy looked up and took it all in. The suit was incredibly detailed, in everything from how it should look, to what materials it could be made of to the dimensions of the person wearing it. His brows raised as he took in the list of weapons attached to it, even as Kyle looked warily between the monitor and him.

‘That’s…a lot of weaponry.’ Roy looked closer, listing them off on his fingers, ‘Bow; pretty standard, throwing knives, combat knife, wrist mounted crossbow; less standard, collapsible batons, one shot grappling hook, electric garrotte wire, uh, poisoned darts and launcher, spiked knuckleduster, and, is that?’ He turned to look at Kyle, ‘Seriously, a belt launched, laser guided smoke bomb?’

‘Well, you never know, right? And it's nonlethal...mostly.’

‘Uh, I don’t need half that stuff.’

‘Yeah, maybe I got carried away. Still you like it?’

‘It’s cool looking, except I don’t want it in that shade of red.’

‘Well, show me.’ Kyle changed the colour and stopped as a thought occurred to him, ‘Shoulder pads! You gotta have some shoulder pads, man!’

‘Ugh, fine. Nothing ornate though.’

‘Sure. Sure.’ He changes a few things and Roy watches as it takes shape. ‘What do you think, now?’

‘Looks awesome.’

‘Yep, you’re gonna be the best protected, hottest hero in the city!’

‘Gah!’ Roy scrunched up his face as Kyle leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. ‘When will it be ready?’

‘Two weeks, I’d say. I’ll call my contact and have it delivered to Verdant, ok?’

‘Yeah. Can’t wait.’

 

Watching Oliver work the salmon ladder, completely shirtless, in those tight ripped shorts, Roy couldn't help his mouth fall open. The muscles stood out on his arms as Oliver continued to climb upwards, sweat running down that scarred, sculpted chest. Roy’s eyes never left him, even as he made it to the top. He wasn’t alone as Felicity had tilted her chair back slightly to catch the show. Roy glanced over to her and she quickly straightened even as he smirked. Oliver dropped to the floor and grabbed a towel. Roy moved away, not wanting to be caught ogling him, his cock drooling and tenting his pants. He moved towards Felicity, looking at the updated designs for his suit on the monitor he had sent her. He felt his erection subside as he studied the fine details and simplified weapon list: bow, quiver, throwing knives.

‘Looks pretty cool.’

‘Yup. Your “friend” is really helping us out,’ she emphasised the word as he avoided her eyes.

‘Yeah, he’s a good guy.’

‘Just friends huh? Because when I was in your house, you had a pretty large stack of-’

‘What? Felicity, keep your voice down!’

‘Oh, relax. I had to sort through your mail when you were out…on the mirakuru. I saw a lot of things I didn’t expect.’

‘If this is about the porn, I can explain.’

‘You don’t have to, a heads up would have been nice though.’

Roy said nothing, just stared her down.

‘Well, you might consider converting to the internet.’

‘What?’

‘It’s easier to hide, you can store more of it, there’s more of those, what do you call ‘em?’ She searched for the word as he stood there, feeling his face heat, ‘Oh yes! Twinks! Lots of them on the internet!’

Roy fumed as he turned away only to see Oliver standing in front of him, towel hung around his neck, eyebrows raised in confusion as Felicity continued to speak quickly and rather shrilly about the virtues of internet porn.

‘Um, Felicity?’

‘Yes, Roy?’

‘Oliver can hear you.’

‘Oh.’ Felicity burned with embarrassment as she turned around, laughing nervously. Oliver looked at them both before turning his attention to her.

‘How do you know so much about gay porn?’

‘Uh, well, um.’

‘What’s a twink?’

‘Roy, why don’t-‘

‘Nope, I’m outta here.’ He tilts his head at Oliver, grinning slyly, ‘My boyfriend’s waiting for me.’

He left them there, feeling strangely victorious. Oliver stared after him, not quite sure what had just happened, while Felicity mumbled something about the server being ‘out of alignment,’ disappearing into the tumble of cables out of sight of Oliver.

 

The suit arrives within the two weeks promised by Kyle. Oliver hauls it down to the Arrowcave late one Thursday, bemused as it’s addressed to ‘RA, c/o Roy Harper.’

‘Hey, Roy this came for you.’

‘Ah, sweet! It’s here.’

‘What is?’

‘My suit.’

‘Oh.’

They open it up, even as Diggle hunts out a spare mannequin for it to be placed on. Roy pulls out the various pieces and spreads them on one of the layout desks. Felicity examines it minutely, running her hands over the smooth leather and steel buckles. Diggle comes back and looks it over, cocking a brow as he turns to Oliver.

‘Hey, I thought you were broke, Oliver. How’d you afford this?’

‘I didn’t. I guess Roy’s…friend came through.’

Roy looks at the armour, walking around it, grinning as he checks out the material and looking at the detailed instructions as to how to put it on, what pieces goes where. Oliver shuffles over, clearing his throat, ‘Hey, look, I know I kinda flaked out on the suit thing, but I got you a proper compound bow. Here.’ Roy smiles, resisting the urge to hug him, instead looking him in the eye and thanking him. Oliver flushes and heartily pats him on the shoulder. ‘Right. Well, better get suited up. There’s a whole city full of crime to deal with!’


	15. Chapter 15

Oliver stepped out of the car, Diggle shutting the door behind him. They walk together through the crowds, making their way past the bustling stores and the loud clatter from the cafes and restaurants, until they are standing opposite a drab, grey office block. Oliver scopes it out, looking at the blackened windows and single barred entrance.

‘You’re sure?’

‘My contact says the gang is running heavy munitions out of the warehouse in the back. Easy access, quiet neighbourhood, plenty of vacant lots.’ He looked around at the empty street, ‘We’re the only ones here, Oliver.’

‘Ok.’ Oliver nods and they turn away, walking back up the street. ‘Have Felicity pull any surveillance in the area and keep a watch on the building. Ask Roy to sweep around it each night on his patrols. If they are trading guns, we’ll need as much info as possible before going in.’

‘Sure.’

They make their way back to the busy streets. Oliver stops dead as he spots Roy coming out of a shop a bit in front of them. He reaches out an arm to bar Diggle and nods towards Roy. 

‘Huh, if he was going to be here, we could’ve used him.’ Diggle gestured to the car, 'Come on, Oliver, car's over there.'

‘Yeah,’ Oliver stops speaking when he sees another man come out of the shop behind Roy. They clearly know each other, from the way their heads angle at each other when they spoke, the closeness of how they stood by each other. As the man turned, Oliver caught a glimpse of his face; good looking, mid-twenties, strong jaw, like Roy…He shook his head to clear away the sudden unprovoked image of Roy shirtless in the Arrowcave. Diggle stood by, his brows furrowed as he too looked at the man; there was something familiar about him, couldn’t quite place it.

Oliver watched them closely, his eyes zeroing in the way the guy had his hands on Roy’s back, the casual way Roy returned the favour, the way they walked with each other, closely, arms pressed against arms, hands not quite together. Oliver can’t explain the sudden flare of jealousy in his stomach, grinding his teeth as he stomped down on the feeling.

Diggle turns back as Roy and Kyle disappear from sight. ‘Hey Oliver, I know that guy.’

‘Huh? How?’

‘He works with Waller. I’ve seen him in the ops room. Something to do with running operations stateside. I don’t know, there was something different about him though. Something dangerous. Not surprising really, given what he does.’

‘ARGUS?’

‘Yeah. Do you think Roy knows?’

Oliver shrugs, ‘Maybe, does it matter?’

‘Oliver, people who get that high in ARGUS so young are either very smart…’

‘Or?’

Diggle looked around before dropping his voice, ‘Or are willing to get their hands very dirty.’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver nods, remembering his own work in China. ‘I’ll check in with Roy, see if he knows anything.’

 

Later in the Arrowcave, Oliver pulls out the wrestling mat and beckons Roy over. 

‘Ok, you still need to work on your hand to hand combat. But don’t worry no batons this time.’

Roy grins and nods, pulling off his hoodie to reveal his tight fitting black vest. Oliver swallows, unable to take his eyes off Roy’s lithe, muscular form. He looked good. ‘He certainly does!’ Whispered that small voice in the back of his mind. The voice he had tried to ignore ever since Roy kissed him in the alley, ever since that night in the bell tower which seems like a dream. Roy didn’t seem to recall it at all and Oliver didn’t know how to bring it up. The voice that haunts his sleepless nights, that prodded him whenever he looked at Roy, that just seemed to be growing a little stronger each day.

‘Oliver?’ Roy was looking at him, brows raised. Oliver pulled his gaze from the floor and stripped out of his shirt. 

‘Ok, try to tackle me!’

Roy circles him for a moment, concentrating on where Oliver was moving to, trying to ignore the flexing muscles in his arms and the quick breaths which caused his abs to contract as he crouched down. Blinking, Roy locked eyes with Oliver and charged in, grabbing him around the waist. Oliver crashed to the floor, winded by the sudden attack. Roy pinned his arms to his sides and straddled his chest. He raised one fist in a mock punch and stopped.

‘Damn, ok Roy. You win that one.’

Roy grinned at him and stood up offering his hand to Oliver. Oliver took it and they started again. As they get into the rhythm of it, dodging attacks, being flung to the floor, grappling for dominance, Oliver begins asking Roy about his life outside of being the Red Arrow. Roy frowns at him, answering each question with one word as he concentrates on taking Oliver down. Oliver, on the other hand, gets frustrated.

‘So you and…uh...’

‘Kyle?’

‘Yeah, you’re happy?’

‘I guess,’ Roy swiped at Oliver and missed as he ducked, ‘why?’

‘No reason, really. Did you tell him who you were?’ Oliver dodges a punch by Roy and barrelled into him when he was off-balance, pushing him to the floor. Roy struggled but Oliver reverses their earlier position and straddles Roy’s waist, a little lower than normal, pressing his ass into Roy’s crotch as he tries to twist out of the hold, feeling the half hard cock move about under him. Oliver grabs his wrists and spreads his arms out, savouring the brief touches of Roy’s smooth, soft skin against his rough fingertips.

‘No!’ Oliver stares him down as he tries to avoid eye contact, ‘Ok. Maybe, but it’s ok, he doesn’t know who you are, or where the Arrowcave is, or anything like that.’

‘Why did you tell him? Don’t you know that could make him a target?’

‘Yeah, but he can take of himself.’

‘I’d bet.’ Oliver whispered the words.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ Oliver releases his hold and lets Roy stand up.

 

Roy rubs his fingers on his wrists, Oliver held him too tight, he turned away to make a quick adjustment to his boxer briefs. The weight of Oliver on top of him had got him excited, the feeling of those rock hard ass cheeks rocking against him as Oliver held him down was simultaneously hot and uncomfortable. He turned back to watch Oliver towel off the sweat, his upper arms glistening in the light, the dribbles of sweat winding their way down his scarred chest.

‘Oliver? Why do you care? You’ve avoided asking me about this sorta thing since Thea.’

Oliver sighed, he wanted to explain, but couldn’t find the words. Instead he relied on half-truths. ‘Thea’s gone, my Mom’s…gone. Out of the rest of us, you’re the only one left that reminds me of my sister.’

‘Even after what I did to her? Breaking up with her like that?’

‘Yeah, despite that, I care about you, Roy. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I risked everything to cure you of the mirakuru, even when it seemed like you were too far gone.’

‘Huh, I see. Well, don't worry, Kyle’s an ok guy.’

‘Just ok?’

‘You know what, Oliver? I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with you.’

‘Right.’ Roy turned away from him, reaching for his bow. Oliver felt that flash of jealousy again, anger flaring too and he dropped the towel, instead diving across the mat and wrapping his arms around Roy’s torso, dropping him to the ground with a yell. He roughly flipped Roy onto his stomach and pinned his arms above his head. Roy’s muffled protests went un-noticed as Oliver pushed against him, his chest on Roy’s back, now fully erect cock inches from Roy’s tightly fitted sweat pants, that ass so perky, so inviting. Oliver gritted his teeth as he resisted the urge to grind into Roy. Instead he resumed questioning him.

‘What else did you tell him?’

‘Nothing! I swear!’ Roy turned his head to one side to breathe, his words tumbling rushed from his mouth; Oliver was scaring him. ‘He’s just a normal guy, Oliver!’

‘Bullshit! He’s ARGUS! Nothing normal about that!’ Roy didn’t react and Oliver pressed harder at his wrists as the younger man squirmed against him. ‘You knew! Do you have any idea of the death they’ve caused? What they would’ve have caused to Starling, just a few months ago?’

‘It isn’t like that. He doesn’t talk about work, I don’t ask. Please, Oliver, you’re hurting me!’

There was something strange in Oliver’s voice as he barked out the questions, Roy glanced up, seeing a fire in his eyes. It was almost as if Oliver was jealous, but that couldn’t be it, could it? Everything they had been through over the past few months told him it couldn’t be. Yet even as Oliver flips him over and presses down on him, he sees something in the older man’s eyes. Something hungry, primal. 

Roy glares angrily at him, even as he tries to push Oliver off. But Oliver doesn’t release his grip, instead pushing his legs apart with his knees. Roy, despite everything that just happened in the last few minutes, feels his cock rise. He fights to throw Oliver off, but to no avail. Oliver pushes up against him, crotch to crotch, stomach to stomach until his face is mere inches from Roy’s own. He looks up and doesn’t recognise the man staring back at him; the lustful, the horny, the frightening Oliver, whose jaw is clenched tight and whose…cock is straining his pants. Roy can feel it pushed up against him, throbbing and much larger than he remembered it.

Oliver can’t explain it, he doesn’t want to let go, even when he feels his cock pulse against Roy’s own, knowing that Roy can feel it too. The younger man’s eyes widen in surprise and he quickly and savagely twists out of Oliver’s grasp as the archer relaxed, springing to his feet as Oliver is flung to the ground. Roy stands over him, fists raised.

‘What the hell, Oliver?’

‘Uh, I’m, I don’t know what came over me.’

‘Yeah, sure. You…fuck Oliver. I’m outta here.’ He turns to leave grabbing his hoodie from the table.

‘Hey, Roy! Wait!’

‘No! Call me when you’re back to being the Arrow, ‘cos I don’t want to hear from you, Oliver.’

Oliver listened to him leave, looking down at his hands, sighing as he realised that was a bit too far. He didn’t understand how to talk to Roy about these feelings, how to explain to him that, maybe, he had liked the kiss. Oliver ran his hands through his hair and glanced down at his till raging hardon. He grabbed himself through the fabric and slowly jerked off, eyes closed as he savoured the last few minutes, pushing tightly against Roy, licking his lips as his nostrils flared: the sweet smell of Roy's sweat was all around him. Delicious...

 

‘You’re awfully quiet tonight.’

‘Huh?’

‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Roy.’ Kyle sat beside him, hand on his knee. ‘I manage people for a living, I listen to their voices from thousands of miles away and I can tell whether they’re in danger, or just in a mall. So, come on, something’s clearly upset you.’

Roy sighed, ‘I think the Arrow…likes me?’

‘Well, why wouldn’t he? Aren’t you friends?’

‘No, I mean he wants to…you know?’

Kyle frowned, ‘The Arrow wants to fuck you?’

‘Kyle! But...yeah.’

‘Uh, all our intelligence says he’s straight. Plus you said he’s been with, what, three or four women since you met him?’

‘I saw his eyes. Pure lust. Trust me, I worked in a club, I know what that looks like.’

Kyle nods, ‘Ok. What do you think about it?’

Roy gets up, moving away from him, ‘I don’t know, Kyle. I don’t know what to think.’

‘You like him.’ It wasn’t a question, just a statement, in that cold detached tone he used for ARGUS business. Roy couldn’t look at him.

‘Yeah. For a while, I thought I loved him. But it was a one way street, he made it clear he wasn’t interested. Very clear.’

‘So what changed?’

Roy turned back to him and rolled up his sleeves. Distinctive fingerprints could been seen on his wrists. Kyle’s jaw tightened and Roy quickly covered the bruises.

‘It was just training.’

‘No. What happened?’ No answer, ‘Come on Roy, I don’t care if he’s the hero of the city, or the country or the goddamn planet, this is wrong.’

‘He didn’t mean to, it just sorta happened. He…We were wrestling; hand to hand combat and I guess…’

‘There’s not really an excuse for this.’

‘I’m fine! I’ll talk to him about it. Get him to apologise, ok?’

Kyle frowned at him, angry, upset. ‘How can you be alright? How can you think about going back to him?’ 

‘You don’t understand what the Arrow has done for me: saved my life, twice, kept me from hurting people when I could have, gave me a place in his team when no one else was there.’ 

Kyle shook his head slowly, ‘I’m here for you. But I guess that’s not enough.’ 

‘I’m going to go home, sleep there tonight.’ As Roy turned to go the shrill tone of cell phone rang out. Kyle fished it out of his jacket pocket, answering as Roy pulled on his coat and picked up a backpack.

‘Westen. Yeah. When?’ he sighed, looking over at Roy, ‘no, I’m still here. Tell them to hold their positions, do not, I repeat, do not engage. I’m on my way.’ He hung up, reaching for his coat. ‘I’ll give you a lift.’

‘I’ll walk.’

‘Suit yourself, but we’re not finished talking about this.’ He paused with his hand on the door, ‘Roy-‘

Roy’s phone vibrated, he answered quickly, speaking quietly, turning away so Kyle couldn’t hear him. He ended it and looked up, ‘that was the Arrow, well part of the team. Duty calls.’

‘Huh, I…Look, just be careful out there.’ Kyle embraced him and quickly pulled away, shutting the door after him. Roy stood there, arms hanging loosely by his sides.

‘Fuck.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was kind of insane, I'm not sure if it was from writing it at three in the morning or what, but the seeds of discord are well and truly sown!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minor character death ahead & re-telling of 301

It was awkward at first, a heavy unspoken tension between the two of them as they dressed in the Arrowcave. Diggle filled their quivers as Felicity doubled checked her information. Roy finished zipping up his suit, avoiding Oliver’s stare. Several times the archer had begun to say something before Roy cut him off, or glared at him, or turned away. Oliver felt the shame at what had happened this morning bubble up and hung his head. 

Roy meanwhile wasn’t sure how to feel. The thought that Oliver might like him back should be making him happy, he should be ecstatic, he should be surrendering to him now. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t escape the feeling that Oliver wasn’t being honest with him. What if Oliver just wanted to use him? Just get a quick rough & tumble? Relieve that obvious sexual frustration that was written all over his face. Roy didn’t want to be a plaything, just something Oliver could use whenever he felt the need. He wanted a proper relationship, like the one he had had with Kyle, but without the secrets. He wanted to be with Oliver, all of Oliver, as the Arrow, but also as a man. And Roy had trouble seeing himself walking down the street hand in hand with Oliver, having long dinners and just talking; doing all the mundane things that normal people do. Sure, Roy could picture the sex, could imagine it with ease, those late night fantasies turning into reality before his eyes. But it was the aftermath, the moments after the final thrust that he couldn’t picture: would Oliver just roll off him and sleep? Or would it be a quick dressing and leaving with an unspoken promise that he’d be back in Roy’s bed again, if not his life? 

Roy startled as Diggle called out to him. He nodded quickly and slung the quiver over his shoulder, strapping it on tight. His sleeves were rolled up and Oliver flushed, seeing the light bruising on his wrists. Felicity opened her mouth to say something, but Roy shot her a sharp look and pulled on his gloves. She turned away brow creased with concern, but biting her tongue when she saw Oliver’s guilty face.

‘Ok. Let’s go over what we know.’ Oliver steeped forward to talk to them all, carefully avoiding direct eye contact with Roy, even though he stared at him. ‘This guy, calls himself the Fear Merchant, is trying to kill off any competition from rival gangs. There’s only a few left and Felicity has managed to track them to the Ferris Air Arena as of ten minutes ago.’

‘Yeah, there’s a heavyweight title fight tonight,’ Roy interrupted. ‘It’ll be packed.’

‘Right, well earlier today there was a RPG attack on a restaurant downtown. He killed three people including a local gang leader. He has no qualms about killing everyone in that stadium just to remove his competition.’

‘Ok, let’s go.’

‘No, Roy, wait. There’s something else. He’s augmented, changed, the Vertigo formula. I don’t know how, but getting hit with it causes your greatest fears to manifest in front of you.’

‘Uh…’ What did that mean? Would he see Oliver constantly reject him? Go off with someone else? Or would it be needles? Needles all around him, with their sharp, prickling tips and blood sucking horror? He shivered at the thought.

‘But don’t worry,’ Felicity came forward, holding three syringes, ‘I called in a few favours and had these created. It’ll counter the psychotropic effects of the drug for a few minutes, hopefully.’

‘How do you know what it does?’ Roy squeezed his eyes shut, tensing up as Felicity rolled up his sleeve and wordless injected the liquid into his arm.

‘Oliver confronted him this afternoon, but he got away.’ She moved on to inject Diggle and Oliver.

‘Which is why he cannot this time. Everyone understand?’

‘Yes Oliver.’

‘Ok. Move out!’

 

The fight was well underway by the time they arrived; the arena crowded and loud. Oliver sent Roy to scout ahead before sneaking up behind a group of henchmen. He quickly took down one of them, shot an arrow into the next one and ducked as the last one swiped at him with a knife. Roy barrelled out of the darkness and grabbed the assailant from behind, twisting his neck until he fell to the ground, unconscious. Oliver glares at him, ‘Took your time!’

‘Sorry, bomb’s located that way,’ He pointed and the two of them ran towards it. Roy was surprised at Oliver’s anger, maybe it was just the stress of the situation. As they approach the stack of C4, Oliver sees the Fear Merchant turn tail and run up the exit stairs.

‘You take care of the bomb, get on the line to Felicity! I’ll take the Fear Merchant!’

‘Got it!’ Roy pulled the cloth off the top of the explosives and stared at the device. ‘Uh, Felicity, help?’

‘Describe the bomb to me, in detail, timer?’

‘Uh, five minutes, less.’

‘What does it look like?’

‘Um,’ He pulled out a scalpel from his belt, ‘there are four cables, two colours, going into a black box with silver cylinders on either ends. All the cables are going into the C4. Is that enough?’

‘Yes,’ Felicity typed furiously, watching similar schematics appear on her screen. ‘Ok, from what you’ve described it sounds like a collapsible circuit design. Cut the yellow wire.’

‘Ok,’ Roy hesitated as he looked between the blue and red wires, ‘There is no yellow wire!’

‘Uh, look above you. There should be pipes leading into the air con system.’

‘Yeah, I see them.’

‘Pull one down and point it at the bomb. They’re pumping Freon, we’re going to freeze the timer!’

Roy nodded to himself and looked up at the pipes, jumping up a nearby pillar to grab one. He let his body weight drag him and the pipe down, closing his mouth and squeezing his eyes tight as the gas came rushing out. He held the pipe at the timer and waited, battling for control as the pipe jumped about in his hands. The timer was frosted over, but he could still see the time counting away. Ten seconds left.

‘Felicity it’s not working!’

In front of her monitors, Felicity closed her eyes.

Roy kept the pipe aimed at the timer, four, three, two, one. The display cracked suddenly and the lights went off. Roy felt his mouth drop in shock and relief. ‘It worked! Felicity, it worked!’

‘Thank god. Ok, PD are on their way, I’m patching you through to Oliver now.’

Roy wiped the sweat from his forehead, his heart pounding as he dropped the smoking pipe and made his way outside.

‘Roy? Status?’

‘Bomb’s disarmed. You?’

‘Fear Merchant down. Cops will collect him soon enough.’

 

Roy exited the arena, seeing Oliver and the criminal over by the air con control station. He slowed as he spotted Sarah by his side. It seemed she had arrived just when Oliver needed her. Of course she did. Roy felt that old spark of jealousy ignite in his stomach, grinding his teeth as he approached them.

‘Roy! Good job in there!’

‘Thanks. Hey Sarah.’ His tone was muted and he avoided looking at either of them. She looked between the two men.

‘Well, it's good to see you, Roy. You look well. I like the suit, even if it makes Oliver a little shabby!’ She laughed and Oliver turned to her, as Roy slipped away.

‘You’re in a good mood.’

‘Well, it’s not often I get to come to Starling. How have you been?’

Oh, I’m…working through a few things.’

‘Sure, it’s not easy. Roy seems to be coming along well.’

‘Yeah, he’s probably gone on patrol. He tends to slip away unnoticed most of the time.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Hey guys, sorry to interrupt you.’

‘It’s ok, go ahead Felicity.’

‘I just heard over the police scanners that a massive explosion occurred on the docks. Surprised you didn’t see it.’

‘We were pretty busy. Any injuries?’

‘No idea, PD are being told to hang back though.’

‘By who?’

‘I’m not sure, it could be the Feds, but the encryption on the frequencies I’m picking up is more like military grade, or higher.’

‘ARGUS.’

‘I’d say so. What do you want me to do?’

Oliver sighed, so much for explaining to Roy, ‘Send me the co-ordinates, I’ll take a look.’

‘Do you need me?’

‘No, Sarah, go see your family.’ Sarah smiled at him and disappeared into the night, ‘Felicity, try and hack their communications, I want to see what we’re dealing with, before I go in.’

‘I’ll try Oliver. One more thing; Local PD fielded almost a hundred calls about strange lights minutes before the explosion.’

‘Got it.’ He picked up his bow and made his way to the motorbike. ‘Contact Roy and have him patrol as normal and then sweep around to meet me at the docks.’

‘Understood.’

 

Oliver surveys the blast zone with binoculars from a stack of containers high above the docks. Three of the warehouses are gone, nothing but smoking wreckage, a massive crater in the ground like a meteor fell from the sky, burning embers littered the scene. Floodlights illuminated everything and Oliver could even hear the low hum of an incoming helicopter. Everywhere men stood about in military gear, automatic rifles slung by their sides. But these were no mere soldiers, Oliver knew an ARGUS operative when he saw one, regardless of whether they wore a suit or camo gear. Figures in white contamination suits were climbing out of the wreckage, some of them hauling up a long silver tube, untouched by the blast. They laid it down on a tarp before another man in a black coat. It looked like an artillery shell, but an eerie blue light leaked from both ends. When the man, obviously in charge, raised his head, Oliver recognised him instantly: Kyle! 

He frowned as more figures in white came into view, this time carrying the charred remains of what was once a person. Kyle was walking around, phone to ear, ordering the scientists around with irritated gestures of his hands. He hung up and indicated to several soldiers to load a truck with the remains and the silver tube. Oliver watched him intently, listening as Felicity spoke into his ear. Her attempts to hack ARGUS’ secure channels had been unsuccessful and she was loathe to try again in case she got caught. He nodded and whispered back; ‘It’s ok, Felicity. I have a bead on their leader, I’m going to follow and see what they’re up to. Any word from Diggle?’

‘Not yet. Roy just checked in, he’s on his north side sweep now, all quiet.’

‘Ok, tell him to go home after that. I’ve got things covered here.’

‘Ok.’

Oliver ended the call and snuck away into the shadows.

 

‘I’m home now. I need you to set up a meeting with Waller. We’ll need cleanup at that warehouse, I’m not comfortable leaving it to the locals. Plus the last thing we need is the damned Arrow sniffing around. Yeah, I know. Look, if you need to, get on the horn to General Eiling, and call in that favour he owes me... Well, just make it happen. Right…’

Kyle unlocked the door carefully, determined not to make any noise if Roy had changed his mind and come back. The door swung open on its oiled hinges and he walked inside. Immediately he tensed up, spotting the pulsing red light of his alarm system by the door.

‘I’ll call you back.’ He whispered, ending the call with a click. One of the internal sensors had been tripped, the rear window in the guest bedroom, some fifteen stories up. He quickly glanced at the time stamp: barely two minutes ago. Kyle walked over to the coat rack and hung his coat, reaching into his open jacket for his service pistol. 

Flicking the safety off, he proceeded down the hallway to his office, noticing a chink of light from the barely closed door. He stood in front of it and gently pushed the door open. Empty. His desk had been opened and papers strewn about the floor. One of the monitors had been smashed, whether in anger or accident, he couldn't tell. Kyle heard a slight creak of floorboards in the living room and turned quickly on the spot, gun held out.

Entering the room silently he sees a hooded figure standing in front of a bookshelf, apparently oblivious to his presence. A quick glance in the half-moonlight revealed the figure to be taller than Roy and not dressed in red. Kyle stopped walking and addressed the Arrow, his gun still held out in front of him, finger on the trigger.

‘What are you doing here?’

Oliver startled, he had not heard anyone come up behind him. He half turned, keeping his face in the shadows, his voice modulator activating. ‘I know who you are, Kyle Westen. I know you work for ARGUS. I know you killed three people tonight! And I know you need to leave Roy Harper alone!’

‘Really? You don’t know as much as you think. And you can’t have him.’

‘What?’

‘I heard what you did, forcing yourself on your student, tut, tut.’

Oliver growled, the distortion effect bursting into static. Instead of replying he pulled his bow up to face Kyle, arrow pre-loaded. ‘I can have an arrow in you before you get a shot off!’

‘Really? You’d kill me because you want Roy for yourself? You think he wouldn't notice? Put the pieces together. If he doesn't want to be with me, fine. But he is not a possession, to be passed around. Besides, when he did like you, you pushed him away, drove him to desperation. Your rejection almost killed him!’

‘Gah! Consider this your first and last warning: Roy Harper belongs with me. You leave him alone and stay out of my way. This is my city, my people, my...sidekick. ARGUS leaves us alone, you leave us alone, or I’ll come back!’

Kyle ground his teeth in response, ‘Get the hell out of my house!’ He reached down for his phone, letting his gun hand fall to the side, confident the Arrow wouldn't shoot him.

Oliver pointed the bow just over Kyle’s shoulder and fired the arrow. A shower of sparks and maroon smoke erupted from the fireplace and flooded out for a few seconds giving Oliver plenty of time to bust open the patio door and grapple off. Kyle, coughing and spluttering, hit the extractor fan by the chimney and the smoke was sucked up before the fire alarm had a chance to go off. 

Stumbling around, his eyes running and red, he felt his way to the bedroom and collapsed on it. Dropping his gun, he rubbed his eyes, hauling out his phone. His fingers felt numb and unresponsive, barely knowing who he was calling. Great, voicemail. ‘Hey, Roy,’ his throat was husky, words tumbling all over each other, rasping and lisping until all that came out was a mess, ‘uh, your, uh, boss just came by. More like your psycho, super-jealous boss. Warned me…Warned…’ He broke out into a fit of coughing and felt the room spin around him; that wasn’t normal smoke. ‘Warn…ugh.’ Kyle felt the world fade to black as he lost consciousness.

‘Mr Westen? Sir? Sir? Are you there? Sir! Code Red One!’

 

Roy stood outside the hospital room. It had been a few days since the mission, since it all went to hell. He had kept away from Oliver and Kyle, didn't speak or see them. Just stayed at home, mostly. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do here, but he sure didn’t want to go into the room. He had received the call just after getting in from his patrol last night. The voice on the other end was clipped and serious, that weird tone doctors adopt when they think they’re being neutral. His first thought went to Oliver, but apparently it was Kyle. Something had happened; he’d been attacked or something in his home. The details weren’t messy exactly, it was just that the doctor didn’t want to tell him. But before he passed out, the man had thought to call him, messing up the number and instead calling one of his assistants. 

Roy remembered the knock at the door, the impersonal suits and opaque sunglasses in the dead of night. The way they took him and put him in the car, the fact that they didn’t go to Starling General, but instead drove for fifty minutes until they were surrounded by scrubland told him something was wrong. Stepping out to see armed soldiers every few feet, black SUVs and two helicopters in front of a grey stone building, it felt very wrong. They escorted him in, past yet more soldiers and black suits. They stopped in front of a glass panelled room, bright lights illuminating the occupant. Five armed guards stood around him, guns held across their chests. Kyle lay on the bed, IV drip in one arm, the other being used to draw blood. Roy shivered at the needles. At least, he thought it was Kyle, the man had a full plastic face mask on, covering his nose and reaching upwards to his closed eyes. His mouth was held open by an array of tubes, the slow hissing beside him of oxygen being pumped in. His chest rose slowly, the monitor beside him beeping every few seconds. Even Roy could see the sluggish heartbeat. Hmm. He knew he should be feeling something other than the calm he felt right now. Panic? Fear? Anger? Something? 

‘What happened?’ His voice was cool, emotionless.

‘We’re not sure.’ It was the doctor he spoke to on the phone, emerging from her office, ‘He ingested some form of toxin. Very potent. I’m surprised he’s not dead yet.’

‘Oh.’

‘But, we’re working on it, that’s why he’s here. I assume you’re from ARGUS? You can tell your boss that we’ve just isolated the toxin and are beginning to de-code it.’

‘He’s not from ARGUS.’ A new voice, older, hardened, the same bitter cold in Kyle’s tone. A grey haired man walked stiffly around Roy, leaning heavily on a cane. ‘I’m not sure why he’s here. But apparently, our agent wanted him to be here. At the end.’ He stopped, looking into the room. ‘Leave us.’

Roy watched as everyone obeyed, the guards saluting and moving to stand outside of the closed doors, the doctor nodding and returning to her office. Then they were alone. The older man was silent and Roy moved up to stand beside him at the glass.

‘I know who you are Roy Harper, Red Arrow, whatever you wish to be called. I know you work with the Green Arrow, Oliver Queen, in that foundry of yours. I know you contracted and were cured of the mirakuru serum. I know lots of things about you. I know you used to be a petty thief, a bag-snatcher, someone whose future was going only one way. Until you met the Arrow, and then everything changed.’

Roy didn’t say anything and the man continued to speak.

‘I imagine you don’t know very much about him,’ nodding at Kyle, ‘don’t know his parents, his brothers, his entire family. You don’t know anything about his work for us, about the sacrifices he has made for his country, the hard choices that he has made for himself, the rivers of blood he has waded through in order to ensure that they don’t become oceans of death. He has worked for us for five years and I have never met someone so dedicated to their cause.’ He stopped, catching his breath, ‘Until I met Oliver Queen, or the Arrow, as he calls himself these days.’

‘How do you know Oliver?’

‘A business function, I doubt he remembers, I had a one-sided conversation with him about the merits of wood chips versus marble chips in gardens.’

‘Sounds fascinating.’

‘That’s the point. You can learn so much from watching people when they’re not interested in what you have to say. You can ramble on and they ignore you, and you can see them fidget and move, watch their eyes roam the room, see who they fixate on: the pretty girl in the sky-blue dress, the handsome waiter carrying cocktails, the important people and their oh-so important friends. We had no evidence to support our theory that Oliver was the Arrow, or Hood as he was known then. But I knew, I could see it in his eyes. That same belief, the same understanding that death sometimes leads to life.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘Kyle was a very clever man-‘

‘Was? He’s still alive.’

‘Not for much longer, I’m afraid. The toxin was too much. Even if he does survive, he’d be better off dead. He would want to be dead. But as I was saying, he was clever, he understood that not everyone would…appreciate our work. Would understand the importance of eliminating threats before they became threats. His security system came with video and audio.’

‘You know who attacked him?’

‘Yes. You don’t need to see it. In fact I can’t let you: it’s classified.’

‘Right.’

‘A fringe group known as the Flaming Star, former terrorists mostly, detonated a large explosive device at one of our safe houses a few days ago. They seemed to have got their hands on some sort of experimental weapon, but blew themselves up in the process. Six months ago, Kyle led an operation to identify, locate and eradicate the Flaming Star.’

‘And did he?’

‘Yes, forty potential terrorists were found and…nullified.’

‘Um, what does that mean?’

‘Oh, let’s just say they no longer pose a threat.’ The man grinned briefly, cold as ice, the smile never reached his eyes. Roy shivered. ‘Unfortunately, we experienced a security breach and the names of the operator and his assets were stolen. We believe that the Flaming Star sent a bomb team to try and kill our agents.’

‘So did they say anything to him, before…?’ Roy gestured vaguely at Kyle.

‘Several things, very interesting things. He had them at gunpoint. But he didn’t fire in time. Someone clocked him from behind and deployed the gas. Thankfully he managed to contain the toxin and we believe it dissipated quite quickly.’

‘So, why am I here? You said it yourself, I don’t know anything about his work. He never told me anything.’

‘Good. I thought you might want to say goodbye? I can’t let you in, of course, no contaminates. But you can see him.’

Roy sighed, looking through the window. ‘No. I don’t know how. He is…was a good man, and I betrayed him. I didn’t feel the same way about him,’ He added in response to the man’s raised brow. Roy touched the intercom button, ‘I’m sorry Kyle... Goodbye.’ Roy turned and the man spoke quietly into his walkie-talkie. The doors opened and the man nodded to the soldiers.

‘He’s done, bring him back to Starling.’ He turned back to look through the glass. ‘Mr Harper.’

Roy twisted his head to look at him, ‘Yeah?’

‘We will not meet again, but I wish you luck.’ The door closed behind him, hiding the man from view as Roy walked out and back into the car with the suits. ‘For you will most certainly need it.’ The man spoke the last words to himself. Sighing silently, he pressed the intercom button to the room. ‘It’s over. He’s gone.’

‘Good.’ Kyle reached up and pulled the mask off his face. ‘Couldn’t breathe in that thing. He bought it, I take it?’

‘Yes. Everything. I did as you asked.’

‘Even though you don’t approve?’

‘The Arrow tried to kill you, he poses a clear threat to our operations, to ARGUS, to you. If that were anyone else, we’d be declaring war on them, not giving their "sidekick" a tour of our compound.’

‘Oliver Queen is a selfish, controlling, dangerous man. But the Arrow? Now he’s useful; protecting Starling City at its most vulnerable time in history. He does what we cannot. Besides, it was my fault. I became distracted. Forgot that this job is the marriage, the kids and the house. There is nothing else.’

‘A dangerous attitude, Kyle. Men who say things like that are the ones who die with a gun in their hands and enemies surrounding them.’

‘Yeah.’ He thought of Roy, the nights they shared together and the days too. ‘It never felt real.’

‘The Flaming Star is real.’

‘Yes. The weapon is ready for foreign trials. Give me the word and I’ll head out to begin them.’

‘What about the Arrow, Red or Green?’

Kyle shrugs, ‘Does it matter? Have you heard what’s been happening in Central City? Superpowers are becoming a reality and neither of us want to have to rely on a man who doesn’t even know who he wants to fuck. But this weapon?’ He got out of the bed, pulling off the gown to replace it with his nearby suit.

‘I see your point. Very well, I’ll pull the surveillance on Queen and have you deployed to Bialya by the end of the week. Our operatives there have become deeply embedded within the administration.’

‘Copy that.’

 

Roy stood outside his house, looking at the door. He didn’t want to go in. He felt empty, but also strangely liberated. It wasn’t that he wanted Kyle to die, but being with him had only increased his desire to be with Oliver. He sighed, remembering forgotten words, ‘Every relationship is a lesson.’ Well, it was clear the lesson he learned from Kyle: don't date someone when your heart wants another guy. Roy sat on the steps, watching the sky slowly turn pink. It was absolutely still right now; no traffic, no people, no planes. Perfect silence in the fading stars. 

Roy wanted Oliver, and Oliver clearly had some interest in him. But it was also clear that Oliver didn’t know how to manage these feelings, if they even existed. Roy thought back to that kiss, that one moment in the alley where it all seemed to make sense. But then it didn’t. Was he mad? Was he seeing things that didn’t exist? Was he so desperate for Oliver to like him that he started taking everything Oliver was doing innocently as some sort of sign? The wrestling, for example, lots of guys do it, and lots of guys get hard doing it. All that grinding against hard bodies, grappling for dominance, rubbing those straining bulges… He blinked. It was perfectly reasonable for Oliver to get hard when that was happening, right? Roy buried his head in his hands. 'Ugh.'

 

Oliver stood in the Arrowcave looking down at his bow. It had been days since he heard from Roy. He didn’t know what had come over him. That arrow, it was meant to have just been a distraction, right? So why did he choose a highly toxic death cloud? Kyle was dead, he had to be. Oh lord, what if Roy had gone back there to find his choked corpse in that ridiculously tidy apartment? Oliver picked up his phone, finding Roy on his speed-dial. Better late then never. He had to explain, had to try to justify it, somehow.

‘Hello?’

‘Roy! It’s Oliver. Are you ok?’

‘You heard, I take it?’

‘Err?’

‘Kyle’s dead. Some terrorists broke into his house and killed him. Some sort of toxic weapon, I don’t know.’

‘Oh, ok. Are you-‘

‘I don’t know, Oliver!’ He interrupted the older man, ‘I guess I should be upset but I’m not.’

‘It might take some time. Did they, uh, say anything else about these terrorists?’

‘No. And don’t bother trying to go after them, ARGUS are probably going to destroy them. He hinted as much.’

‘Who? Kyle?’

‘No, some old guy. Walked with a cane, English accent, practically Imperial, said he met you.’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘He knew everything, Oliver. Everything about us; you, me, where we are, who we are, how we know each other, what we do.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t worry too much. It's ARGUS, they make it their business to know everything. Are, are you coming to training?’

‘Yeah. Just…’

‘I know. I lost control the last time. I’m sorry. Ironic, huh? Anyway, come in, we’ll straighten it all out and everything can go back to the way it was. I promise!’ Oliver hung up.

Roy held onto the phone, whispering ‘Please, please, Oliver...’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to be away for about a week and unlikely to update until the beginning of December. I'll still be writing, so hopefully I can keep up the quick updates through until Christmas! Also, I couldn't remember the name, if they gave one, for the villain in 301, so I made up the 'Fear Merchant,' for him. Just a little more flavour; every good villain has a good villain name! Thanks for reading & hopefully you've enjoyed it so far.


	17. Chapter 17

‘Sarah’s dead.’ 

It hit him like a punch to the stomach. Roy stood there, leaning against his front door as Oliver looked him in the eye and repeated what he just said. ‘She’s dead.’ The sky above them was overcast, dark heavy clouds scurrying past as the wind drove them hard, rain threatening to fall any minute.

‘Oh, man, I’m sorry, Oliver. Uh, you better come in.’ Roy held the door open as Oliver moved past him, and closed it. Oliver waited for him in the hallway and Roy gestured to continue on. ‘I’m sorry about the mess,’ he quickly grabbed up loose papers and takeout dishes, stuffing them into the trash. Oliver didn’t reply, just picked up a mess of clothes to sit on the couch. ‘I’ll take those.’ Roy reached down, feeling his hands brush against Oliver cold fingers. He dumped them on an empty seat and stood in front of Oliver. ‘Uh, can I get you anything? I think I have coffee…’

‘No, no. That’s not why I’m here.’ Oliver stopped speaking and let his gaze drift away as he searched for the right words. Roy leant against the mantle across from him. Oliver looked tired, dark rings under his eyes, the stubble on his face a little longer than he liked. Roy flicked his eyes down to Oliver’s unbuttoned shirt, before pulling them back up to match his gaze.

‘Sorry.’

‘For what?’

Roy gulped, ‘Why are you here Oliver?’

‘When we last spoke, I wasn’t honest with you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I…’ He stopped again. He couldn’t. ‘It doesn’t matter, Roy, this was a mistake.’

‘Huh?’ 

Oliver stood up suddenly and turned to leave.

‘Oliver, wait!’ Roy reached out for him, ‘Do you like me?’

Oliver bent his head, could it be that simple? Should he? ‘Of course. We’re friends, right?’

‘I don’t mean like that. Do you like me?’ Roy looked at him, searching for his eyes to see the truth, but Oliver kept dodging him.

Oliver sighed, his heart heavy, he just couldn’t. Sarah’s death was too close; he felt guilty enough just being here. ‘No. Not like that.’

‘Oh.’ Roy didn’t know what to say next, ‘I guess you should go.’

‘Roy,’ Oliver turned back to him, ‘we work together; I need to be able trust you when we’re out in the field, so we need to keep everything professional, ok?’

‘Ok.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Roy walks him to the door, opening it just as the first few drops fall from the ashen sky. ‘Oliver, what do we do about Sarah?’

‘We find her killer and bring them to justice. Everything else is secondary, ok?’

‘Got it.’ Roy leaned against the door again, looking mournfully at Oliver, even avoided his eyes. ‘Do you need anything, Oliver?’ A hug, maybe? A chance to get close to him and feel those strong arms wrap around him, for Roy to breathe in Oliver’s heady mix of sweat and aftershave. Roy raised his brows as Oliver stopped, turned around and came close to him. Oliver licked his lips without thinking, even as Roy’s eyes darted up to them. He was breathing a little faster than normal. Oliver noticed, hesitating before patting Roy on the shoulder. The younger man frowned at him again as Oliver quickly turned on his heel and walked to his motorbike. The roll of thunder nearby and the flash of lightening made Roy close the door quickly. 

 

Once inside he leaned against it, confused. He couldn’t get a read on Oliver, what he said; was he leaving the door open for a relationship later? Or was it the simpler, and more obvious, reason that he just wasn’t into him? And now that Roy thought about it, he realised that Oliver didn’t really meet many normal people; the only women he met were either his old flames, villains or heroes. And Felicity, of course. He saw the way she looked at Oliver, saw the desire, the tension between the two of them. He knew that loving someone was supposed to mean that you had their best interests at heart. Should he leave Oliver alone? 

Roy sat where Oliver had been, feeling the warmth left over from him. He stared off into the distance. He didn’t want to leave Oliver alone, didn’t want to see him with Felicity, or Laurel or Sarah…She was dead, but Oliver never said how, or why, or even when. Roy rubbed his hands against his eyes, seeing the sparks explode against his closed lids. He pulled his feet up and hugged his knees, resting his head on them, before feeling his phone vibrate.

‘Yeah?’

‘Roy? It’s Felicity.’

‘Oliver just left, if that’s what you want?’

‘No, um, just calling to let you know we’re meeting tonight, around nine.’

‘Yeah, I’ll be there.’

‘Are you ok? You sound a little-‘

‘I’m fine.’ Roy paused, ‘Sorry, I just heard about Sarah, you know.’

‘Of course. Two deaths in as many days, it can’t be easy.’

‘That’s just how it goes, I guess.’

‘Even still,’ Felicity sounded concerned, ‘Do you, do you know when the funeral for your friend will be?’

Roy sighed, ‘I don’t know, ARGUS will take care of it, I guess.’

‘You’re not going?’

‘Honestly, Felicity, I just want to be left alone.’

‘Ok. See you later.’

‘Yeah.’ Roy let the phone fall out of his hand, curling up on the couch in the semi-darkness, letting his eyes fall shut.

 

He awoke with a start, that sudden wakefulness after a strange dream. The ones where even after just waking up it’s hard to keep a hold of all the pieces; just grains of sand slipping through his fingers. Roy sat upright, running a hand through his mussed up hair, sticking out at strange angles after moving around in his sleep. He tried to flatten it, failed and stood up, stumbling through to the bathroom, wincing at the brightness of the light. He splashed water on his face, the cool liquid refreshing him somewhat. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Roy sighed, avoiding even his own gaze. He turned around to look into the bedroom, searching for the clock on the bedside table. 9:30, damn he must have slept all evening. Wait! 9:30 already? Shit, he was late! Roy began to speed up, pulling his toothbrush out and wetting his hair. And then he stopped. He looked at himself in the mirror again, staring at his eyes, before dropping his gaze. What was the point? It wasn’t as if Oliver really needed him…

 

Oliver checked his watch again. Ten past ten. An hour late. He ground his teeth in frustration, everyone needed to be here. 

‘Are you sure you told him the correct time?’

‘For the third time Oliver, yes.’ Felicity turned around to address him, ‘I told him we were gathering around nine, and he said he’d be here.’

‘Did you try his cell?’

‘Twice. He’s not picking up.’

‘I can go.’

‘No, Diggle. We’ll wait.’

‘If you say so, Oliver.’

The door opened after another twenty minutes and Roy came down the stairs. Oliver turned to him, furious. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘Sorry, I slept in.’

‘It’s ten o’clock at night.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Roy avoided Oliver’s accusing gaze, his tone defeated, tired. ‘Just leave it. Please Oliver.’

‘Fine. Get dressed, I need you tonight.’

‘If you say so.’

Roy nodded at went over to where his armour stood on the plastic stand. Oliver watched him hesitate, staring at the armour and eventually picking up the leggings, before turning away to give him some privacy. When he was finally ready, Roy came to join them. His hood was down and he twirled the mask in his fingers, looking around absent mindedly, barely listening to Oliver. He perked up when Oliver starting talking about Sarah.

‘Have you found anything new, Felicity?’

‘No cameras, no CCTV at all, it’s a black zone.’

‘How did she die?’

‘I just told you, Roy. Aren’t you paying attention?’ He shrugged and Oliver glared at him, ‘Two arrows, right into the chest. Shallow penetration, more like stab wounds. Got it?’

‘Yeah. Another archer, huh?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Just…Just go on patrol.’ 

‘Whatever.’ Roy was muted even in the face of Oliver’s obvious frustration. ‘Anywhere in particular?’

‘Swing by the crime scene. I’ll be there in two hours.’

Roy left without another word. Oliver watched him leave, concerned at his sudden change in attitude from this afternoon.

‘What did you say to him, Oliver?’

‘I don’t know.’ Of course he did, Oliver tried to ignore the thoughts that came unbidden into his mind, he broke Roy’s heart, smashed his spirit… 

 

The night air was cold, Roy felt the slowly falling drizzle on his face as he walked out into the alleyway. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he summon any energy? It was as if he just didn’t care anymore. He leant against the red brick wall and just let the rain fall on him. He stood there for what felt like hours. He closed his eyes, feeling the rain drench his face, some part of him pretending they were tears, the real tears locked behind his squeezed shut eyes. He barely heard the door open and the sound of crunching boxes as whoever it was came out.

Oliver stopped walking as he noticed Roy standing against the wall. He was soaked, at least his hair and face were. His eyes were closed tight, the crinkles around them flexed every few seconds as he squeezed his lids tighter. Oliver stared at him, this was so unlike Roy. Nothing ever seemed to get him down, granted, nothing ever seemed to make him happy either. Oliver approached him and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. As he came closer, he thought he could hear what sounded like a sob, was he crying? Oliver hesitated, unsure if he should just leave the man to his obvious grief. No. Something had to be very wrong if Roy hadn’t even made it past the foundry gates. Oliver glanced at his watch, he had a new lead, slim, but the best they had. He couldn’t let it go cold. 

He reached out and poked Roy. The younger man opened his eyes and stared up at Oliver, before quickly dropping them again.

‘Roy, why aren’t you out on patrol?’ Oliver asked the question softly.

‘I can’t, I just can’t.’ Roy let himself sink down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, hands covering his head. Oliver hunched down in front of him, Roy hadn’t been this bad for months, not since the mirakuru was cured. ‘Just leave me, Oliver.’

‘I won't. Remember? I’m your friend. Friends don’t leave each other when they’re hurting. Now come here.’ Oliver held out his hands and waited. Roy looked at him and shook his head. He struggled to get up, something in that gesture stirred memories and hardened his heart. He ground his teeth, an exercise in self-control, and avoided looking at Oliver’s confused face, instead wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. 

‘Why don’t you like me, Oliver?’

‘I’m just not like you, Roy.’ 

‘Then why were you jealous? Why did you-‘ 

‘I was just concerned. Like I am now.’

‘…I’m fine.’ He muttered, ‘I’m going now. See you at the roof.’

‘Roy? Roy!’ Oliver watched him run down the alley, that feeling of déjà vu coming over him. ‘What did I do wrong?’ He called after Roy, seeing him jump and pull himself up a chain-link fence on the other side of the street.

Roy stopped when he was sure he was out of sight. He had heard Oliver’s last words, the response echoing in his mind as he ran away. ‘You don’t love me, Oliver. That’s the only thing I want.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit of a strange chapter, but I'll be uploading the next one on Wednesday and it should make some more sense then. As always, thanks for reading.


	18. Chapter 18

Roy woke with a start, his vest clinging to him as he wiped the cold clammy sweat from his brow. He looked at his hand, fingers spread, seeing them tremble in the half light of the early morning. The dream tugged at him, but he couldn’t remember what is was about. But the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him it had been bad. There was this feeling of guilt and fear mixed together all around him. He threw off the sheets and pushed off the bed, stumbling into the bathroom. Pulling on the cord, the light bulb flickered to life. He gripped the edges of the sink and spat down the drain. His mouth tasted horrible, dry and metallic, like it was filled with blood. He glanced up to look at himself in the mirror, his serious expression looking back at him, dark green eyes staring at their reflection. He bows his head, trying to recall the events of the dream, but it just wouldn’t come. He thought there had been a street or maybe it was just rooftop gravel, there had been others there too, in front of him, or beside him, he couldn’t tell, couldn’t remember their faces, just shadows where the face was meant to be. And then blood, there was blood on his hands, on his clothes, everywhere. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d had these dreams. Every night this week it had been the same thing, except tonight, when he woke up suddenly. His normal dreams were all over the place, sometimes they made no sense, other times they were sexy dreams of him and Oliver, and then there were the nightmares, those dreams were rare enough now, but he still got them sometimes. He blamed his overactive imagination for those types of dreams, but he knew that these latest ones were something different. Almost like memories. His alarm buzzed in the bedroom and wandered in to disable it. Huh, a text from Oliver.

‘Roy, Arrowcave, 6:30.’

‘Gee, thanks for the info, Oliver.’ He muttered to himself as he went back to the bathroom, turning on the shower. He stripped out of his vest and boxer briefs, throwing them into the basket nearby. The water was hot, steam billowed out the open door, as he felt the glorious torrent beat down on him. Letting the water drench his hair, plastering it to his forehead, the streams wandering down his body, washing away the visions of the night. He gasped when he exited the shower, the bathroom was cold, the drops on his torso beading as he began to vigorously dry himself.

5:45, Roy pulled on a t-shirt, loose fitting this time, Oliver had made it clear enough not to distract him, so there seemed to be little point in trying to get a response from the older man. Roy pulled on his jeans and grabbed his old red hoodie from his closet, feeling the soft fabric and the memories it held. He slipped into his shoes and stood for a moment in his room.

‘What am I doing?’ He murmured to himself, ‘It’s not like he cares.’ He sighs but grabs his keys from the bedside table and leaves.

 

On the other side of town, Oliver is standing in the center of the Arrowcave, lost in thought. Sarah’s killer had got away, the evidence was useless, what little they had managed to find. And it seemed life was content to keep going, even the secret funeral they held for her just slipped by. Roy hadn’t gone to it. He had been missing days frequently and even when he did come in, there was a strange lack of energy around him. He wasn’t even angry anymore, it was like he just didn’t care. Oliver had last trained with him three days ago, rings under his eyes, hair not even gelled up, avoiding eye contact. He had felt sorry for him and just let him practice his archery. Even then Roy spent most of his time staring off into the distance. The only time he seemed to come alive is when he went on patrol, ranging far around the city, Oliver shadowed him last week, watching him climb onto rooftops and jump the wide gaps between buildings with little regard for the distance. Oliver nearly intervened twice when Roy almost missed his mark, scrabbling on the edge until he pulled himself upright. And then there were the crimes he stopped, often jumping right into the center of a gang of thugs and attacking them with his fists, his bow used more as a club than anything else. Even when there was only one assailant he’d barrel into them and start punching. 

But it was the incident that Oliver had witnessed last night that made him text Roy to meet him. The patrol had seemed normal enough; the usual reckless risk taking and fighting off groups of men to save innocents, until he spotted a group of three teenagers kicking the shit out of another teen curled up on the ground before them. Oliver could just hear their homophobic slurs and insults from his rooftop position opposite Roy. The red archer didn’t acknowledge his presence, if he even knew Oliver was there. Instead Roy stood up, unnoticed by the thugs below him. Oliver watched as Roy took out his bow, notch an arrow to it and sight down it, his hands perfectly steady, eyes locked onto the obvious leader and released. The arrow flew down and pierced the teenager in the throat. He keeled over with a gurgle as Oliver looked on in surprise. Roy calmly notched another arrow to his bow and aimed at the other two teenagers, who were staring at their fallen comrade. Roy twitched his bow as they turned to run and released. This arrow struck home in the back of one of the two remaining thugs, he pivoted on the spot, the arrow sticking out of his chest as he collapsed. The last teenager stumbled backwards and tried to run away, but found his escape blocked by Roy. The archer had dropped silently from the rooftop. Oliver watched him carefully, concern written on his face. ‘Come on, Roy.’ He whispered to himself. Roy just stared at the teenager, before striking hard and fast. A quick punch to the face startled him, followed by a swift kick to the knees, forcing him down. The teenager raised his arms in front of his face. 

‘Please, stop! No more! I surrender!’

Roy didn’t say anything, just raised his bow, arrow taut on the string. He looked down the sight at the boy’s frightened face. He was younger than the others, they looked about nineteen. It was impossible for Oliver to see Roy’s face, but he breathed a sigh of relief when the archer lowered his bow, opting instead to punch the boy solidly, knocking him out. Roy walked slowly over to the unmoving body they had been beating on, stepping over the other bodies. He glanced down, rolling the young man gently over, wiping away some of the blood and felt for a pulse. Roy stood up quickly and reached for his cell phone. The call was swift and one way, Oliver too high up to hear the words, but he could guess. When it was over, Roy slung his bow over one shoulder and jumped up the nearby fire escape, disappearing from view.

Oliver slumped against the wall around the edge of the roof. How could his training of Roy gone so wrong? He had just watched him kill two people without any evident emotion and savagely beat up the third. Oliver sighed, he should’ve intervened, should have made his presence known. But even if he had done so, he wasn’t sure Roy would have stopped. Oliver should have paid closer attention to him, should have realised that losing two friends so close to each other would have an effect. He had deliberately avoiding talking about it with Roy, afraid to bring it up, still trying to deny his part in the death, unwilling to know how Roy felt about the whole thing.

 

The sound of the door opening shook Oliver out of his memories, breaking his long stare as he turned to see Roy come down the stairs. He was tired looking, more so than normal, barely a few hours of sleep by the looks of it. His hair was still slightly wet, sticking up as he ran his hands through it, flattening the back. Oliver flicked his eyes over him, noting the looseness of his clothes, gone were the tight, figure hugging clothes he used to wear. Roy stopped a few feet from Oliver and nodded at him.

‘What’s up?’

‘How are you?’

Roy shrugged in response, ‘Fine. You need something done?’ His voice was emotionless, his unblinking eyes staring at, or rather, through Oliver.

‘I followed you last night. On your patrol.’

‘Right,’ Still no reaction. ‘What did you think?’

‘Did you not hear me? I followed you, I’ve been following all this week. The way you’ve been fighting, attacking people, hurting them, killing them, that’s not how I trained you.’

‘No, guess not.’

‘Damn it, Roy! Can’t you just react for once?’

Roy stood there, hands in his pockets, face neutral, ‘Why? It’s not as if you care what I do.’

‘That’s not true. You want to be part of this team, my crusade, you have to follow my rules.’

‘I follow your rules, most of the time. Protect the innocent, disable the bad guys, try not to kill anyone. Right?’

‘It’s not just that, I don’t understand what’s gotten into you. You’re reckless, not caring if you live or die. Not to mention how ruthless you’ve become. It’s like you take every opportunity to go for the kill shot.’

‘So what? You gonna throw me out too?’

‘No, of course not. You just need more direction, we need to spend more time together.’

‘You don’t want me.’ Roy stared at him, face emotionless, eyes burning with hurt and anger.

Oliver took a breath, surprised at the directness of Roy's words, ‘I can’t give you what you want, Roy, not like that. But I still need you, want you, on the team. Please come back.’

‘I can’t do this anymore, Oliver.’ He sounded defeated, close to tears again. ‘It’s all gone so wrong. Everything I try to do right, I screw up; this, Kyle, you. I just can’t.’

‘Yes, you can. Look, Roy, there has to be more to your life than just us, Team Arrow, me.’

‘There’s no one else left, Oliver. I don’t have any friends, he’s dead, Thea’s gone and you don’t…’

 

Oliver sighed, unable to look at Roy’s accusing glare. But he was right, there was no counter-balance in Roy’s life, to offset the weight of being the Red Arrow. As for Thea, yeah, he should try to find her. Despite their tumultuous past, he remembered that Roy was only really stable around her. Plus it wasn’t as if she’d be any competition. Wait, did he just think that? He looked back at Roy who was examining Oliver’s bow in the glass case beside him. He thought those feelings had gone away. But it was hard to deny them, especially now that Roy had made everything so obvious. Why couldn’t he have just kept everything a secret? Oliver hated the part of him that wanted to give in to Roy, stamping down on those feelings with a ruthlessness even as he gritted his teeth. No, he couldn't.

‘Roy. I’m not good at feelings, I’m not able to tell you how much you mean to me, how much I want you to be happy, that everything will be ok.’ Oliver thought to himself as walked over to the younger man, before speaking aloud. ‘Roy, you asking me to love you like the way you want me to is not going to happen.’ He placed one hand on either shoulder and squeezed gently. ‘The Arrow, this job, this calling, means I have to give up a normal life, normal expectations, normal decisions.’

‘So, are you saying that…?’

‘In another life, maybe.’ Oliver sighed. ‘You’ll learn it soon enough, if you stay with us.’

Roy dropped his eyes, reaching one hand up to clasp Oliver’s carefully, ‘I don’t care about the risk. But I understand.’ He swallowed carefully, burying those feelings again, just like they were all those months ago. Oliver watched his face harden, even as those burning green eyes bored into him. ‘I’ll be here Oliver, by your side, I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for an eternity.’

‘I know.’ Oliver could see it, could see it all so clearly now. That fiery passion, that burning brightness in his eyes was more than mere lust, more than love; it was belief. Belief in him, his words. Oliver felt the weight of the promise even as Roy stared at him, he nodded, feeling those eyes draw him in.

 

Then the magic was broken as the door banged open and Felicity came down the stairs, bag in one hand, and coffee in the other. She stopped when she saw them standing together.

‘Oh, hey, guys. Everything ok?’

Oliver dropped his hands and wandered over to her, helping her with the bag. ‘Sure. Just needed to tell Roy something.’

‘Ok.’ Felicity nodded at the younger man and went over to the desk, ‘Well, I might have some news on Thea.’

‘Oh?’

Roy walked slowly to the case holding his suit and stared at it, letting their conversation wash over him. For the first time in as many days he felt better, relieved, lighter. Not happy necessarily, but as if things could go back to normal again. If normal meant hiding his feelings and secretly watching Oliver from the corners of his eyes. Is that what normal is? Roy shrugged, he’d take it, it was better that seeing Oliver look mournfully at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that chapter has hopefully rebalanced everything again. I felt like the previous chapter, while legitimate, held a rather negative outlook for their relationship. So with everything back to somewhat normality, the next chapter is Coto Maltese with some very interesting variations on the episode, then flick over to some more Roy dreams and then morph into the infamous ‘Never leave me,’ chapter.


	19. Chapter 19

Oliver liked this new Roy, even if it was a bit jarring at times. As much as he felt wrong doing so, Oliver thought of him less as his sidekick and more as his guard dog. It was a good comparison, though. Roy stuck close to him, he kept a watch for any threats, took some ridiculous risks to keep Oliver safe, and watched him with eyes blazing with zealotry. Since he and Roy had had their talk in the Arrowcave, everything got back to working order. They trained together, went on patrol together more often, even if Roy still went off on his own, most nights.

For Roy, it was a good enough compromise, he got to be around Oliver with none of the previous awkwardness and he got to show him how much he cared by taking almost all the risks. That, at least, was his logic, even if it did get him strange stares from Felicity and Diggle and the occasional sigh from Oliver. Sure, it wasn’t the same as being **with** him, but Roy could still fantasize about him and he did, constantly. His favourite, and secret, day dream was being with Oliver on the island. Even though he knew it had been a hellscape, he turned it into a Robinson Crusoe style paradise, where they’d be left alone. He’d read parts of the book after learning about Oliver being on the island and while a lot of it was boring ramblings about the nature of man and god, Roy enjoyed the survival parts. He and Oliver washing up and having to build a shelter, catch their food, Oliver always shirtless, Roy his only companion, days spent…

‘Roy! Hey!’ Oliver poked him in the chest, Roy was daydreaming again, his eyes glazed over, his hand cupping his face, a faint smile playing about his lips. Roy started, looking up at Oliver standing over him.

‘Oh, uh. What is it?’

‘Felicity thinks she’s narrowed down Thea’s location.’

‘Nice one, somewhere in Europe then?’

‘Uh, not exactly.’ 

Roy nodded at him and walked over to his armour stand, reaching inside to pick up his bow and quiver. Oliver frowned at him, ‘Uh, Roy? What are you doing?’

‘I’m going with you, Oliver. I pushed her away and made her leave Starling, she’s gone because of the lies I told. So I’ll make it up to you, please, let me, Oliver.’

‘No, what…uh.’ Oliver stopped, ‘Roy, what are you doing with that?’

‘Huh?’ Roy looked at the bow in his hands.

‘You can’t travel with that.’

Roy frowned, ‘uh…I’ve, actually, never been on a plane before…’

Oliver sighed and faceplamed, ‘Huh.’ He grinned at Roy and left to make the arrangements, the younger man shaking his head as he realised how stupid he just looked. 

‘Bah!’ 

 

Roy had been to the airport before, but only to see people off or collect them. Although he had a vague memory of someone, his mother maybe, taking him to the fields near the end of the tarmac to watch the planes land and take-off when he was a young child. There was a surge of nostalgia as he watched a massive American Airlines 747 lumber into the sky not far from them. Roy practically bounded around with excitement, the two older men grinning at each other as he looked at everything with a sort of awe completely out of character for him. Although Oliver could see that energy boil down slightly as they began to board, Roy moved closer to him, a little more nervous as his hands brushed Oliver’s, obviously fighting the urge to hold them. They cleared security and boarded the plane with ease, the early morning flight only half booked. Diggle stowed their luggage overhead and gestured for Roy to take the window seat with Oliver beside him. Once settled in, John reached across Oliver to dump a pack of chewy toffee in Roy's lap.

‘Uh, John? What’s this for?’

‘First time on a plane right?’

Roy nodded.

‘So the change in air pressure will make your ears pop, chewing something will help a lot. You'll see.’

‘Err, ok. Thanks.’ Roy smiled at him as Oliver tightened his seat belt. Roy peered out at the airport as they taxied around to face the long runway. There was a pause as the plane settled, engines idling, waiting for the all-clear from the tower. And then he felt it thrumming up his seat: that glorious rush as the plane speeds up, the howling in his ears, the roar of the engines and gravity sucking him back into his seat. As they begin to pick up speed he feels his heart hammer, ears popping as jaws furiously chew and his hands grip the armrests hard, not even noticing that Oliver’s hand is on one of them. Oliver looks down as Roy grips his hand in a vicelike grip, knuckles white, squeezing his eyes tight as the plane reaches the end of the runway and the feeling of lightness as they begin their tilt upwards. Up and up they go until they break through the cloud cover to the perfect upper sky and the realm of eternal sun. They level out and Oliver leans over to Roy, ‘Hey, Roy, you can open your eyes now. It’s ok, we’re up.’

‘Oh, ok.’ Roy blinks and looks out the window, staring at the fluffy white clouds that were so grey and dark in Starling.

‘Uh, Roy? Can I have my hand back?’

‘Huh? Oh. Sorry.’ Roy looks down and quickly releases Oliver’s hand, blushing as he realises how he reached for him. Oliver shakes it out and glances at Roy only to see him staring out the window, leaning forward to get a better view of the wing and engines behind him. 

The landing is easier, although Roy still grips the armrests hard as the plane’s wheels hit the tarmac. Oliver patted him on the shoulder affectionately after they came to a stop at the island’s moderately sized airport terminal. Roy smiled at him gratefully and followed them out of the plane, staying close beside Oliver all the way.

 

And then they exit, the wall of heat washing over them. Neither Oliver nor Diggle seem to mind, but Roy is immediately sweating, grateful he took Oliver’s advice to wear something light. He can feel the beads of perspiration dripping down the inside of his shirt, that strange moistness on his face, he wipes his forehead off with the back of his hand. Oliver gestures for him to get into the car as Diggle reaches over.

‘You, ok, Roy?’

‘Yeah,’ he gasps out, ‘it’s just the heat, you know.’

‘I know, it’ll get easier in a bit. The first few minutes are the hardest.’

Roy nods and gratefully accepts a bottle of water from Oliver, gulping down the liquid as they speed past the airport terminal and out along the highway. Within ten minutes they are stopping in front of the hotel. The three men exit the taxi and Oliver nods for Roy to follow him in. 

‘Hey, John, you go make the arrangements for contact, I’ll get Roy settled and meet you there.’

Roy watches the bodyguard leave and turns to Oliver, ‘Settled? Why can’t I go with you?’

‘The heat for one thing. The fact that you look exhausted for another. Take a few hours, Roy. If I need you, I’ll call you.’

‘But, but…’ Roy stammered as he followed Oliver up to the joined rooms, ‘what if you get in trouble?’

‘I’ve been doing this for a long time, Roy, we’ll be ok without you. Here.’ He hands the younger man the key and follows him in. ‘Look, the flight, the heat, the tiredness, you’re not where I need you to be right now. Try and rest. And don’t leave the hotel.’

‘What about Thea?’

‘I’ll find her, make an approach and clear the way for you.’ Oliver turned quickly and left Roy standing alone in the room.

‘I guess. Thanks Oliver,’ he said half-heartedly, at least the room was nice. Bright, airy, bigger bed than he had at home. He pulled off his shirt and dropped his jeans, kicking off his shoes and slipping out of his socks as he let the warm air from the fan above him bathe his body, relishing the lightness after the heaviness of the sweat soaked clothes. He let himself fall back on the bed, ‘Woah, comfy!’ He leaned back, and feeling his heavy eyes close, sleep pulling him in, as his body got used to the mid-morning heat.

 

Oliver poked his head around Roy’s door after he got back from the café, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the young archer rolled onto one side, only wearing his form fitting boxer briefs, encasing his tight ass. Oliver blinked a few times and padded softly across the room. Roy was breathing slowly, apparently asleep. Oliver sat down on the bed and rested one hand on the man's muscular arms and gently shook him awake.

‘Hey, Roy! Roy, wake up!’

‘Mhhm, I’m awake.’ Roy squinted at Oliver and rubbed his eyes, ‘Oh, Oliver, hey. Is everything ok?’

‘Yeah, just came to check on you. Sleep well?’

‘Yeah, kinda.’ A half remembered dream tugs on his mind, but he ignores it, realising how close Oliver is to him, ‘Uh. I should get dressed. You find Thea?’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver got off the bed and turned away as Roy grabbed a pair of shorts from his suitcase, not bothering with a shirt for the moment. ‘Yeah, she’s working in a café not far from here.’

‘You seen her yet?’

‘No, not yet. Diggle’s business got a little more complicated. He might need our help.’

‘Sure,’ Roy nods, ‘I’m here.’

‘Yeah.’ Oliver stands there, almost as if he has something else to say. Roy raises a brow and Oliver bows his head, ‘Well, I better go see Thea. They’re serving lunch downstairs if you’re hungry. Don’t worry, I’ve paid for everything.’

‘Oh, thanks Oliver, you didn’t have to. You already covered the plane ticket…’

‘It’s fine Roy,’ Oliver awkwardly pats him on the shoulder as he pulls a fresh shirt on. ‘Ok, I’m off.’

‘See ya.’ Roy watches him go, walks into the bathroom and splashes his face with water, thankful Oliver didn’t mention or notice his bulging cock for that entire conversation. ‘Oh, man, Oliver, why you gotta be so sexy?’ He muttered as he finished dressing.

 

Roy walked along the pavement until he reached the café where Thea worked. Oliver had given him the go ahead to talk to her, his own efforts hadn’t been successful. Roy rested on a low wall opposite the café, watching customers walk in and out, the serving staff mill about, he jumped up when saw Thea walking around to the rear of the building, trash bags in hand. He quickly followed her. She reached up over the big trash cans and one of the bags ripped, dry waste pouring everywhere. Roy hurried over to her, ‘Should’ve got the heavy duty ones.’ 

Thea stopped, crouched over the pile and looked at him, ‘Huh, what, are you and my brother travel buddies now?’

Roy shrugged, bending down to help her, ’Not exactly, we’re just…worried about you. Oliver said you weren’t going to come back.’

‘Can you blame me?’

‘Well, Starling isn’t exactly palm trees and sunshine, but it’s home. Oliver’s there, he loves you still, and I, I know I hurt you. I lied to you, right to your face, again and again. But please don’t punish him for my mistakes.’

Thea sighed, looking at him, even as the sweat dripped down his face, the searing sun overhead beating down on the exposed concrete yard. ‘Roy, I didn’t just leave because of you. My mother lied to me, Oliver lied to me, there were secrets everywhere, I just, I can’t go back to that.’

Roy slumped, nodding along with her words, jaw clenched as he experienced a twinge of regret. ‘I guess you like it here, lonely though?’

‘A little, but I like it. I’m my own person here, no baggage.’ She gave him a hard look then, ‘No one who lies to me, or uses me, or kisses men in front of me.’

‘Yeah…’ Roy hung his head, ‘All I ever wanted was for you to be happy Thea, and you weren’t going to find that with me.’ He gulped, breaths coming in short gasps, ‘But if being here makes you happy, then you should stay. Stay and never come back.’ He turned away then, desperate to get out of there, desperate to be away from her accusing eyes and disappointed tone. He began to walk, but stopped when she called out to him.

‘Roy! Are you ok?’ Her face was concerned, as her gaze lingered on the dark rings under his eyes.

‘I…I just haven’t been sleeping much lately.’ He sighed and gave her a half-smile, ‘you take care, now.’ He turned away again and Thea watched him walk quickly away, a strange sense of sadness came over her before she brushed it off and hurried back inside.

 

Roy got back just as the sun began to set on Corto Maltese, watching the brilliant rays of light disappear into shafts of orange and red, the nearby sounds of the ocean calmly lapping against the golden beaches washing over his ears. Roy smiled politely at the desk manager as he noticed the somewhat handsome man check him out, smirking a little as he returned to the room. Roy checked his phone and noticed a quick message from Oliver: ‘With Diggle, prepping for tomorrow. Sorry.’ Sorry for what? Not including him? Roy shook his head and yawned, there was something about the island that just made him tired. Well, since Oliver didn’t need him, guess he could take another nap. Roy stripped off again and threw himself down on the bed. Thunk! ‘Ow!’ The mattress sunk to one side as Roy lay there in pain. Some of the springs were gone…

 

The three of them hunched down behind a garbage can, Diggle squinting through a pair of binoculars as the target came into range. They watched him get out and walk around to face a black SUV coming to a stop in front of him, armed men climb out and another man, the mercenary leader by the looks of it, approached the target. Roy watched as a laptop was opened and the transaction made. Diggle swore under his breath, ‘We better go.’ 

Roy crouched down opposite Oliver and watched bemused as he started pulling out a quiver of arrows from the large black bag he brought with them. Another one followed which he handed to Roy and then came two bows. Oliver gestured at him to pick up the bow. ‘Come on, Roy!’

‘But, but, how?’

‘Oh just a little something I created earlier!’

‘Wait a minute, you took my bed springs!’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver smirked at him, ‘we all have to make sacrifices. Now come on!’

Roy stared at him, grumbling under his breath as he looped the quiver around his back, the makeshift bow held in one hand as he followed him across the open ground. A roar of engines filled the air and Roy shoved Oliver down behind a dumpster, crouching down beside him. ‘You ok?’

‘Yeah. Who are they?’

Roy popped his head up and quickly looked around before dropping it again, ‘Two trucks, maybe a dozen guys, heavily armed, look like military.’

‘Militarised police force, more like. Guess the turncoat hired them to delay us. Diggle!’ Oliver half whispered, ‘We’ll handle them and you get that bastard!’

Roy notched an arrow to his bow, struggling a little with the simple design. Oliver, already armed, paused and knelt down beside him. ‘Here, put your fingers like so,’ he gently manipulated Roy’s hands until he was holding the bow better, ‘and then place the arrow like this, hold it with this finger until you shoot. Better?’

‘Yeah, thanks.’ Roy closed his eyes, the sun was hot and the metal behind him hotter still, he opened his eyes as he felt Oliver stand up. The sudden hiss of an arrow releasing and the startled yell of the victim prompted Roy to stand up beside him and fire. The first shot was a bit shaky, missing the target and hitting the man behind in the chest. However he soon established a rhythm and they laid down covering fire as Diggle ran towards the turncoat agent. 

Roy reached for another arrow, but stopped as he noticed the soldiers fall back behind their truck. ‘Oliver, I-‘’

‘Get down!’ Oliver dived on top of him as a rattle of gunfire echoed overhead. Roy fell heavily, the breath knocked from him, Oliver’s heavy, muscular frame on top of him as the soldiers began a slow advance. 

‘Uh, Oliver?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Many left?’

‘Four. And they’re about to reload,’ as he finished speaking, the guns fell silent and Oliver jumped up, pulling a handgun from his waist. Four shots rang out and Roy, scrabbling upwards, heard four bodies fall to the ground. ‘Are they? Did you?’

‘Chest shots, but they’re wearing Kevlar so probably out cold. Long enough for us to leave. I’ll go see if Diggle needs help.’

‘Ok.’

Oliver turned, stopped and turned back, ‘Ok? You don’t sound ok. Were you hit?’

‘No, no. it’s just…’

‘Just?’

‘I didn’t expect you to have a gun.’

‘Why? I never said I didn’t know how to use one.’ Oliver sighed and reached down to help Roy stand up.

‘I’m fine, go get Diggle.’ Roy watched Oliver leave, something was off, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, brows furrowed together as he gathered up their bows and arrows, quickly breaking them apart and throwing the pieces away.

 

Back in the hotel, Roy stared out the open balcony windows. It was just after midday; their flight left in a few hours. Oliver had told him to hurry up, but Roy didn’t want to leave. After the mission was completed he spent the remaining hours down by the beach, just sitting in the hot sand, letting the ocean breezes wash over him, staring out at the water. Oliver had gone to reason with Thea again, but he didn’t think she’d want to go back with them. That time, an hour, maybe two, had been, not perfect, but still. Quiet. Just Roy and his thoughts. The mission, it had been strange, not the combat; that was just work, but the details surrounding it had been hazy. Oliver never explained who or what they were protecting, and Roy didn’t ask, trusting him. But still there was something about the look Oliver had given him this morning… 

Oliver opened the door quietly, seeing Roy standing at the window, bags packed. ‘Roy? Taxi’s here.’

‘Great.’

‘Doesn’t sound like it is.’

‘Yeah.’

Oliver bit his lip as he entered the room fully, walking across to put a hand on Roy’s shoulder, gently squeezing. ‘Come on Roy, remember I told you to talk to me whenever you needed to?’

‘I…I,’ Roy stopped, wanting to tell Oliver about the dreams, the difficulty he had sleeping, the moments he woke up in the middle of the night covered in sweat and shaking all over. But he couldn’t, so he just shrugged it off and muttered, ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Ok,’ Oliver grabbed Roy’s bags and walked to the door, but the younger man still hadn’t moved. ‘Come on, Roy. Let’s go home.’

Home. Not the Glades, not really Starling, but Oliver. Wherever Oliver was, felt like home to him now. Maybe that’s why he liked being here so much; Oliver was a lot less…’Arrowy,’ and a lot more like Roy always imagined him to be. He nodded at Oliver and followed him out.

 

The airport is stuffy and hot, the air con only kicking in after they clear security. Roy is grateful that he chose to wear his lighter, looser t-shirt than the black shirt he wore during the shoot-out. Even still, he feels the slow drip of sweat winding its way down his face, under his collar and down his chest. He shivers unconsciously and looks up as Oliver offers him a drink. ‘Huh?’

‘Coffee?’

‘Oh, thanks.’

Diggle sits next to him, and Oliver across from him, Roy lets his eyes wander and finds them resting on the archer’s muscular arms, a quick glance upwards and he sees that Oliver is gazing up at the Corto Maltese tourism posters. Roy hunches forwards, hands cupped around the steaming cup, his biceps made more prominent as the sleeves of his t-shirt ride up. He flicks his eyes back down to roam slowly over Oliver’s chest and arms, finishing up by glancing at his strong handsome face. Roy sighs quietly, he still wanted Oliver. He let himself fall into the familiar desert island fantasy he had made up for him and the archer, remembering the feeling of the hot sand from earlier, the crashing waves, the perfect heat of the sun beating down on Oliver’s shirtless muscled body…

‘Hi, guys.’

Roy started as he looked up to see Thea standing in front of them, suitcase by one side, Oliver by the other. He faked a smile as she moved past to sit beside her brother, Roy’s thoughts turning to jealousy again; more competition for Oliver’s time: great. But almost immediately he berated himself for thinking like that; he had plenty of time with the Arrow. And then Roy stared off into the distance again, a sudden realisation dawning on him. He liked Oliver, had come to lust after him for his body, but it was the Arrow he had fallen for first. It was almost as if he thought of them as two different people: there was calm, kind, considerate, attractive Oliver Queen, who could have any girl he wanted and put friends and family first. And then there was the Arrow: aggressive, retribution focused, a mysterious, sexy stranger who just happened to be Oliver. Roy frowned, he had it for a second, that perfect moment of realisation before it broke apart. He couldn’t gather back together again and fell back against his seat, groaning.

Thea had been watching him since she sat down, noticing how his eyes skipped past her and focused on her brother, darting around him until they glazed over, fixated on Oliver’s rather hunky arms. She frowned, a disturbing thought pulling at her as she watched Roy uncomfortably shift around on his chair, his eyes not leaving Oliver’s body for long. And then it was gone.

‘Flight DL980 to Starling City, now boarding at Gate Six.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things: firstly, I wanted to get this chapter up sooner, but real life got in the way, secondly, this (303) has been my favourite episode so far; the moments with Roy & Oliver, the looks he gives him, the elements of humour they brought out. Also I love airplanes, so I was a bit disappointed when they skipped over Roy’s first time on one! As always thank you for reading, more updates later in the week.


	20. Chapter 20

His eyes opened suddenly, blinking in the half darkness of the room. Roy stared up at his ceiling, seeing the shafts of light from passing cars dart across it. His curtains were shut tight, but still the city lights pierced through the worn fabric. His heart was beating a little faster than normal, his vest soaked in sweat as he had moved around the bed in his sleep, pillows strewn about, the covers kicked back. He closed his eyes again, forcing his breathing to slow, his stomach clenching as he tried to remember the already fragmenting dream.

It had been like this for weeks, but only seemed to have got worse since he returned from Corto Maltese with Oliver. Every night was the same, the same cluster of nightmares, the same vivid dreams, the same sudden wakefulness just before the resolution. The same feeling of fear and guilt and frustration running through his mind. The last few days he deliberately stayed awake, working out, practicing in the Arrowcave until he could no longer hold his bow straight, no longer keep his arms up. Oliver noticed, of course, and came over to him.

 

Oliver had been watching Roy for the past twenty minutes, noting the dark rings under his eyes, the sluggishness of his movements, and the way his eyes had begun to flutter shut even as he stood there, swaying slightly on his feet. Oliver stood up, walking over to the younger man and placing a hand on his shoulder. Roy jumped and his eyes opened quickly.

‘I’m fine! I was just resting my eyes.’

‘Roy, go home. You’re tired. No, you’re exhausted.’

‘I’m ok, I can go on.’

‘You don’t have to, it’s just training.’ Oliver frowned at him, seeing his eyes close even as he stood there. ‘Look, if you don’t want to go home, you can sleep on the bed in the back.’

‘No.’ His voice was firm, ‘no I’ll go back to the house.’

‘Ok,’ Oliver took the bow from his hands and put it back on the rack. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a ride.’

‘Mhm.’ Roy muttered as he felt Oliver steer him away towards the van, his hands resting comfortingly on his shoulders. Roy couldn’t keep his eyes open and just let himself relax into Oliver’s guidance.

‘Steps.’ 

Roy obediently lifted his feet and felt the cool air outside rush to meet him as they emerged from the foundry. He opened his eyes and looked up at Oliver, who nodded towards the van. He climbed in as Oliver went around to the driver’s side. His eyes blinking shut again, dozing off, even as he struggled to stay awake. But the motion of the van soon had him snoring quietly.

‘We’re here. Wake up Roy!’ 

He awoke to Oliver gently shaking him, his worried face staring at him. ‘Oh, thanks, Oliver.’ He muttered as he opened the door, ‘I’m good from here.’ He stumbled over his feet until he managed to open the front door and lean against it. Oliver sat in the van, chewing his lip as if he wanted to follow. In the end Roy waved him off and Oliver pulled away. Roy made his way to the bedroom on autopilot, stripping his clothes off with heavy, almost drunk, motions, grabbing his sleeping vest and pulling it on, before falling into the bed. He was asleep in seconds.

 

And the dreams. The dreams came just the same as before, worse in fact. He was running down a street, the world bent and misshapen around him, as if it was made of a child’s drawing. The streets were blackish grey and the trees green and the cars were bright, and he was running, no knowledge of what he was wearing, not the red hoodie, not the suit, maybe he was just wearing a shirt, he didn’t know, it didn’t matter. Because what mattered was what was chasing him. He could sense it, but not see it, its presence turning everything ashen and black, like the world was crumbling around him. A dead end, there were walls all around him…and then the dream shifted. He was standing on a rooftop, gravel all around, the bright lights of the city reflected in the shiny leather of his suit. He looks up to see Oliver across from him, no, not Oliver; the Arrow. Dressed just the same, his hood drawn tight across the face, the lower half covered in shadows, completely unknown. He feels fear at first, but then the Arrow comes closer to him, grabbing him around his waist, embracing him tightly. A strong hug that lasts several long seconds. And the fear disperses as he feels the man’s hand reach lower to cup his butt cheeks, feeling him reach down to kiss him, the stubble of his face rough against Roy’s own clean shave chin. The kiss lasting a minute or so as Roy gets into it, pressing his body against that of the Arrow. And then he’s apart from himself, watching himself make out with the Arrow. A movement catches his attention and he turns to see Oliver with Sarah. They’re dancing, a twirling waltz on the rooftop, moving about the gravel with practised ease; Oliver dressed in a suit, the white shirt unbuttoned against the black open jacket, while Sarah’s image flickers between Black Canary and her own casual clothes. Roy feels himself snap back into his own body. An instant switch from third person to first; a surge of white hot jealousy roaring through him. And then the Arrow is gone, torn away from him, as though Sarah was the center of gravity, pulling the man straight to her. Now Roy watches as she dances with them both; Oliver and the Arrow, dancing and twirling and slowly it gets more erotic, more sensual, pulling both men together, rubbing herself against them, ripping open Oliver’s shirt and pulling on the laces of the Arrow’s jerkin. Roy grinds his teeth in fury, a snarl of rage erupting from his mouth, his hands curling around something smooth and long, a thin…something. And then it all fades away, turning to black as he struggles to remember.

But tonight there was something new. After the blackness there were sounds, screaming and cursing and someone yelling his name in a mix of agony and regret. ‘Roy! Stop!’ Then there were new images; his hands shaking uncontrollably, blood covered, the feel of dark fabric on his fingers… Roy stared at the ceiling, every night it was the same, if it wasn’t the dream with Oliver, Sarah and the Arrow on the rooftop, then he got some other weird and vivid dream. He felt his eyes closing again and stifled a yawn, rolling over and pulling one of the discarded pillows close to him, wrapping his arms around it and hugging it tightly. He began thinking about Oliver in order to stop thinking about his nightmares, feeling himself drawn to his desert island fantasy, seeing it all play out in his head, feeling it lull him back to sleep, a secret smile against his pillow.

 

His alarm screeched its early morning cry and Roy felt around to shut it off, his eyes fluttering open as he glanced at the time. The nightmare, the one on the roof, it was a vague memory to him, his last dream he could recall in fragments, disturbed as he was about it. He shuddered as he relived those last seconds before he woke up, the cold suffocation of the water around him, the face looking up at him through dying eyes... Ugh! He rolled off the bed and into the bathroom, leaving the light off as he twisted the taps. He splashed water of his face; the coolness making him shiver. Roy gripped the sides of the sink and leaned into the mirror, closer and closer until his irises looked into the other. He blinked and bowed his head forward until it rested on the glass. He moved back into the bedroom, reaching for his phone and quickly dialling Oliver’s number.

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s Roy.’

‘I know. Are you ok?’

‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Uh, ok.’ There was a pause, ‘Are you ok?’

‘I…I really need you Oliver.’

‘Ok, ok. I’m on my way.’

‘Great.’ Roy could hear noise in the background, typing, the sound of keys on a metal table as Oliver rushed around. ‘I’m at home, by the way.’

‘Hey, Roy? You in any trouble?’

‘No, not exactly, I just…’

‘I’m getting in the van now, just stay where you are. It’ll be ok.’

‘Yeah.’ Roy hung up, a little guilty that he put Oliver out like this, hearing the concern in the other man’s voice was comforting, in a strange way. Roy sat on his bed, staring into nothing as he thought to himself. Maybe he was being stupid, maybe he was just wasting Oliver’s time, maybe he just needed to buck up. He got up, grabbing a pair of sweat pants as he heard Oliver hammer on the door, opening it to see him flushed in the cold autumn morning.

‘Come in.’

‘Thanks, cold out.’

Roy led Oliver into his tiny sitting room, much tidier than on his last visit. Roy sat on the couch and Oliver sat down beside him.

‘So…what’s up, Roy?’

Roy sighed, ‘Damn, Oliver, I…I shouldn’t have dragged you out here. It was stupid.’ He turned away, burying his face in his hands. 

‘No, no, Roy. It’s ok. I’m here for you, no matter what.’ He reached over and squeezed Roy’s shoulder, ‘No matter how big or small this is, you can tell me. So what is it?’

‘I’ve…I’ve been having some disturbing dreams, well nightmares really.’

‘Ok, that’s not a big deal, Roy. After everything that’s happened, it’s to be expected.’

‘I know I should…just deal with it. I’m not this weak, Oliver.’

‘It’s not weakness, Roy, it’s just your mind trying to work through…your boyfriend’s death, Sarah’s death, the loss of your mirakuru power. Me, well “us”.’

‘Us?’

‘You know?’

‘Oh,’ Roy looked at him strangely, ‘yeah you’re right. It’s just, I had this dream last night, it was really fucked up. Like I’m still reliving it.’

‘Ok, you want to tell me about it?’

‘This is just between us, right?’ Oliver nodded, eyes locked on him. Roy took a breath and began to speak.

 

‘The first part centred on the invasion of Starling City by Canada, of all places.'

'Canada?' Oliver stared at him.

'Yeah. They had the little leaf thingies on the side of their uniforms.' Oliver was still looking at him, Roy just glared at him, 'I just had this feeling it was Canada, ok?'

'Err, ok.'

'So, anyway, their helicopters and tanks were everywhere, soldiers walking around with their guns out. I was out and about in the city. I mean I think it was Starling, but it looked like…uh, something medieval, you know; towers and castles and walls.’ 

Oliver stared at him but didn’t say anything else, so Roy dropped his eyes and continued on. ‘The streets were filled with panicked people, running everywhere, kinda like that night when Slade attacked. I was with…someone, a group of us and we were attacked. I fought back, defeated most of them but their leader defended himself with a glowing orb. I attacked him until all my friends were gone. Ended up in the countryside, people were fleeing towards the sea.’ Roy looked back at Oliver, brow raised. ‘Well?’

‘You found that disturbing?’

‘Well, not really, it’s just everything bled together and I couldn’t really tell you one without the other.’

‘Did you use your fists or your bow?’

‘I had a gun.’ Roy grinned to himself, ‘I was good at it, I helped save people.’

‘You’ve done that it real life, Roy, maybe not with a gun, but you’re still a hero.’

‘Yeah, I guess. Anyway, this is where this got weird. So first there were these Asians guys with their eyes stitched together. They were everywhere, trying to attack me until I caught the monster who didn’t want people looking at his sister. I had a gun and people trusted to use it. They looked up to me and smiled at me and everything. After that there was a scene about cover being blown and women with long blond hair. Then they jumped into the water; viewing them from below as they turned into their true form; dresses morphing to match one another.’ Roy was rambling now, words slipping all over each other as he stares into nothing, reliving the dream. Oliver nodded now and again, frowning at his descriptions and listening as Roy continued to speak, ‘But then voices from up ahead, men calling out to beware of the monster. A shadowy eel like shape cuts above. Then screaming. By the time I arrive they have pulled…him. Pulled him out. He’s in a bad way, injured, blood everywhere, he’s choking, I can’t save him, the enemy is looking for him…And then I woke up.’ Roy finished rather lamely. He looked up at Oliver. 

‘Well, I don’t know what to tell you Roy, I’m not really sure how to interpret dreams. Have you considered seeing a professional?’

‘No, I can handle it. Most of the time anyway, this just...freaked me out.' Roy looked up at him and then sighed, 'Look, I don’t need you to tell me anything. I just wanted someone to talk to.’

‘I’m always here.’ Him? Who did Roy mean? Unless, well of course it was him, Oliver rolled his eyes internally; Kyle, who else could it be? But, Roy was doing better, at least Oliver thought so, the younger man never talked about the ARGUS agent, just as Oliver never talked about Sarah. Oliver glanced up to see Roy watching him, that neutral expression made his face so dull, a sort of wooden handsomeness.

There was a moment, an almost perfectly still moment as they’re staring at each, when it all seems to fall into place, where Oliver could just reach over and touch him, pull him close, Roy longed for it. But he stayed motionless, until he dropped his eyes and broke the stillness, even as Oliver’s phone rang out shrilly. He pats his pockets and then reaches into his coat to pull it out.

‘It's Felicity. I should get this,’ he says to Roy as he swipes the answer button. ‘Yeah? When? And you’re sure it’s accurate? Great, no, I’m on my way.’

‘What’s up?’

‘Felicity thinks she finally got a hit from the DNA we pulled from Sarah’s arrows.’ Oliver paused, half way up, ‘Uh, sorry Roy, but I have to go.’

‘I understand.’ Roy gestured for him to go and followed him out to the door, ‘Do you need me?’

‘No, not yet, just be ready in case.’

‘You got it.’ He leaned against the door as he watched the archer walk to the van. ‘Hey, Oliver?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Thanks. For coming, listening to me.’

‘Always here for you, Roy. I’ll see you later!’

‘Yeah.’ Roy whispered as he watched Oliver leave. The dreams’ disturbing images had abated somewhat since he talked to Oliver, but there was something else; some niggling thought tugging for attention, some memory of something. But he couldn’t tell, he frowned, unsure if it was a memory or just a dream. He shook his head, it didn’t matter much, they needed to catch Sarah’s killer, if only so Oliver would get closure. So he could move on, so they could both move on.


	21. Chapter 21

Roy twisted and turned on the bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids. The dream was the same as ever, he quickly moved past his kiss with the Arrow, the images of Oliver and Sarah and the Arrow colliding and twirling by him in seconds, until he finds himself alone on the rooftop. He hunches over, his hands shaking uncontrollably, lips twisted into a snarl as he walks jerkily towards Sarah. He looks down at his hands, one of Oliver’s arrows clutched tight in it. She confronts him, the words washing over his ears, unheard as he clenches his fists. And then he’s throwing the arrow, another appearing in his hand, throwing that one two, watching with a perverse satisfaction as they strike Sarah in the stomach, her mouth opening as she stumbles backwards, and off the roof to the streets below.

Roy woke with a start, cold sweat dripping down his face, his eyes widening in shock as he finally remembered the endings of all those other dreams. This final piece falls into place, the realisation hits him that he’s been killing Sarah in his dreams every night for the past how many months? He shivers as he relives the dream, watching from outside himself as he kills her. He squeezed his eyes shut, seeing himself rage on mirakuru and strike her down, the images so vivid and real and the blood on his hands and the sound of the arrows as they plunge into her flesh. He stumbles into the bathroom, spitting down the sink as he dry-retches. The dream had been so intense, so lifelike, but it couldn’t be, could it? He didn’t have any mirakuru in his system, right? Unless it came back, unless the cure didn’t really work. Roy sat on his bed, hunched over, face buried in his hands as all the other times he had that nightmare, killing Sarah, came rushing back.

‘No, no, no, no…I couldn’t have, no, no…’

 

It had been days since Roy went to sleep, he couldn’t risk it, didn’t want to see it happen again, it was bad enough that he saw Sarah’s shocked face every time he closed his eyes. So he stayed awake, drinking coffee whenever he felt tiredness drag him down. When Oliver called out to him to stop training and suit up, he did so quickly and quietly, focusing on putting on the tight fitting pants, even as his fingers fumbled over the buckles. He followed Diggle and Oliver outside, eyes glued to Oliver’s taillights as he drove his own bike on autopilot. They arrived at one of Starling’s many empty and rusting warehouses. He could hear Oliver and Diggle discussing tactics, but he zoned out of most of it, staring blankly off into the distance. Oliver taps him on the chest.

‘Roy?’

‘Huh?’

‘So you are there, good. Right, Diggle you cover the south side, I’ll go in the east, and Roy?’

‘West, right.’

‘No,’ Oliver frowned at him, ‘The roof. Remember?’

‘Right, yeah.’ Roy responded half-heartedly. Oliver just shook his head and cuffed the younger man lightly over the back of the head. Roy bobbed his head and headed off. He swung up onto the overhead gantry, walking carefully along the thin walkway until he was directly over Oliver’s supposed position. It was dark, the building silent. Oliver whispered something in his ear, he didn’t really hear the words, just the tone of Oliver’s voice, comforting, that strange comfort from someone’s voice when extremely tired. Roy nodded to himself, feeling his eyes close as he let Oliver’s voice lull him into almost sleep.

Oliver stopped talking, waiting for a response from Roy. Nothing. Oliver waited a little longer before swearing to himself.

‘Roy? Roy?! Damn it, Roy!’

‘Huh? Oh, err, sorry, uh. Yeah I heard you.’

Oliver ground his teeth, muttering darkly in reply before moving in, glancing upwards to see Roy’s shadow in the rafters above him, hunched over and leaning heavily on the railings. Oliver frowned as he advanced into the main building.

Roy rubbed his hands against his eyes, mumbling an affirmative as Oliver warned him to be alert. He didn’t miss Oliver’s irritated reply and struggled to stay awake. There was a clatter from down below him, Oliver’s bow releasing an arrow, before being kicked out of his hand. But the archer had moved positions rapidly. Too fast in fact. Roy blinked, realising he must have blacked out for a moment, he quickly changed his position, moving towards Oliver, only to see Diggle barrelling around the far exit, gun held up and firing. Oliver’s assailant gave him one final kick in the back, sending him sprawling against a pile of wooden crates. Diggle’s bullets whizzed by and the attacker turned and ran. Roy had his bow to hand, but wasn’t quick enough to respond. Instead he clambered down from the gantry and jogged over to Oliver.

‘Are you ok?’

‘Where the hell were you? You’re supposed to watch my back, Roy!’

‘I…I guess I-‘

‘What?’

‘Oliver go easy,’ Diggle helped him up, ‘We’ll find him again, you managed to tag him right?’

‘No. That was your job, Roy. Let me guess, you failed that too?’

‘I’m sorry, Oliver.’ Roy bowed his head, the bitter taste of failure in his mouth, made all the worse by Oliver’s disappointed glare. 

Oliver huffed, before nodding at Diggle to get back in the van. Roy stood there as he felt Oliver approach him. The older man pushed him gently to indicate that they were done here. They walked slowly out of the warehouse, Oliver frowning, unsure how to talk to Roy. Instead he just puts an arm around his shoulders and squeezes gently. ‘Come on Roy, we better get back.’ Roy looked up at him and nodded, the anger had left his voice.

 

When they return to the Arrowcave Diggle had already briefed Felicity and she was busy working up a new lead for them to follow. Oliver moved quickly down the stairs, Roy plodding along after him. 

‘Well? Any luck?’

‘Yes, and no.’ Felicity turned to look at them as Roy leaned against a table, the night outside was cold while the Arrowcave was comfortably warm, he felt eyes droop again, drowsiness overcoming him, thankful that the hood covered his face from the others.

‘Go on.’

‘Ok, I managed to get a lock on him after he left the warehouse, surveillance cameras tracked him for ten blocks until he reached the south end of the Glades.’

‘Did he disappear?’

‘Not exactly, I know the general area, but that’s the bad news, I can’t narrow it down any less than a block’s radius.’ Felicity paused and turned away from the monitors, ‘Weren’t you supposed to tag him, anyway?’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver glanced back at Roy’s stooped figure, ‘that didn’t exactly go to plan. Ok, guys. Diggle you’re with me, we’ll need to canvas the entire block. Felicity keep trying to find him.’

Roy jerked upright on hearing Oliver’s words and goes to follow him, but Oliver turns and puts a hand on his chest, stopping him. 

‘No. You stay here.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because you’re no use to me half asleep. Go home, Roy.’

‘I am home.’ He paused, cheeks flushing as he realised what he said. ‘I mean…’

‘Look, just rest, try to sleep.’ Oliver looked at Roy’s hurt expression.

‘But I wanna go with you.’ He almost whined, ‘Please Oliver, don’t leave me behind.’

‘Roy. Stop, you’re not yourself.’ Oliver stared at his bloodshot eyes, ‘When was the last time you slept?’

Mumble, mumble.

‘What was that?’

‘A few days.’ Roy muttered sulkily, avoiding Oliver’s stern gaze, ‘ok, maybe three or four.’ 

Oliver’s eyes widened in surprised. ‘Are you mad? You can’t avoid sleeping for that length of time! You’ll go insane!’ He grabbed Roy by the arm and pulled him back behind Felicity’s wall of servers to the fold out bed. ‘You. Sleep here tonight.’ He pulled back the sheets, pushed him down on the bed and waited until he laid down.

Roy frowned, but could feel the tiredness weigh down on him like an anchor. He pulled off his jacket and gave it to Oliver, preferring not to try and struggle out of his tight fitting pants, instead he kicked off his boots and laid down properly. He felt his eyes flutter and before long he was gone, his chest rising and falling slowly, face peaceful as he turns onto his side. Oliver watches him for a moment, before pulling the duvet up around him, tucking him in tight. He lingers over Roy for a few minutes, before gently pushing the younger man’s hair back, feeling the smooth coolness of his forehead, the normally tense muscles relaxing as he sleeps. Oliver resists the desire to kiss him, even as he feels the urge in his stomach to do so. Instead he walks quietly back to Felicity, Diggle having already gone to get the van. 

‘Hey Felicity, can you keep an eye on Roy, please? He really needs to sleep. But, just, you know, wake him up if he looks distressed.’

‘Distressed?’

‘Yeah, he’s been having some nightmares lately, probably why he’s avoiding sleeping.’

‘Ok. I’ll look in on him every twenty minutes.’

‘Thanks.’

 

Roy wakes up to Felicity shaking his shoulder. He stops and blinks, recognising her worried face. He gulps and sits up quickly as Felicity mumbles something about getting him some water. Roy rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands; the dream was too real this time, too vivid, he glances at his hands, almost expecting the blood to be there. But it isn’t, of course. He chides himself as he accepts the bottle of water from Felicity.

‘Ok?’

He nods, drinking it down, staring into the floor.

‘Roy? What’s going on? What did you dream about?’

He took a breath and replied woodenly, ‘I killed Sarah.’

‘Uh…’

Roy flicks his eyes up, before dropping them down again. ‘I saw it, I stabbed her with the arrows, there was blood everywhere, but I did it. That’s what I dream about. Oliver’s…he’s gonna kill me.’

Felicity frowned, lips pursed. She knelt down to look him in the eye; his gaze still fixed on the floor. ‘What do you mean, you stabbed her?’

‘I was shaking, I don’t…remember it, I just, I know I did it.’

‘If you did it, don’t you think you’d remember?’

‘The mirakuru. I don’t remember half of the things I did when I was on that stuff. The days just bleed together, and the blackout after Slade caught me, I don’t remember any of it. So?’

‘Are you asking me if you still have mirakuru in your system?’

‘Yeah, you know how to test for it, right? It makes sense, I wouldn’t have…killed her if I was me. Even if Oliver likes her more…’ He trailed off, avoiding her eyes.

Felicity stared at him, realisation slowly dawning. ‘Oh. Um, I can test you alright, and your DNA, but the sample we pulled off the arrows was degraded, it might not help.’

Roy nods and gets off the bed and follows her back to the main room, watching as she prepares the needle and sits down, holding his arm out and away from him. Squeezing his eyes shut as she wipes his arm with the antiseptic towelette. 

‘Make a fist. Good. Ok, this’ll only take a moment.’ She gently inserts the needle, glancing up to see his jaw clench tight, eyes closed tighter. She finishes up and pulls it out carefully, replacing it with a cotton ball and taping it down. ‘Ok, all done. Here eat this.’ She pushes a candy bar at him and he slowly munches on the chocolate as she runs the tests, brow furrowed with concentration. Roy looked up as she turned around to face him, her face still full of concern.

‘Well?’

‘Negative. There are no signs of mirakuru in your system. Everything’s normal, so far as I can see.’

Roy frowned, confused. ‘Well, what about the DNA?’

Felicity sighed, ‘It’s inconclusive. The sample is too degraded.’

‘Damn. I, I still need to tell Oliver.’

‘What? No, Roy, you didn’t do it.’

‘Why am I dreaming about it then?’ He demanded, ‘Why can’t I close my eyes and have a normal dream for once? Why am I haunted by that moment every damn night for the past two months, if I didn’t kill her?’ He was almost shouting now. Felicity was staring past him. Roy sighed and turned around to see Oliver and Laurel standing at the bottom of the stairs. 

 

Oliver stared at Roy, noticing the bandage on his arm, the obvious tension between him and Felicity. He moves forward, hand out to steer Roy back to the bed, it was clear he hadn’t slept much, his hair only slightly messed up. 

‘Come on, Roy, you need to sleep more.’

‘No,’ Roy shrugged out of Oliver’s grip, his expression sorrowful, but determined. ‘There’s something I need to tell you, tell you both.’ He nodded at Laurel as she frowned at him.

‘Roy?’ Felicity asked him, warning in her voice.

‘No, I…I need to do this.’ He stopped, licking his lips before continuing. ‘I know who killed Sarah. I…I did it. I killed her.’ His eyes skipped between Oliver’s confused expressions to Laurel’s surprised face. He took a half step forward even as she held up her hands and rocked back. He stopped moving and simply looked her in the eye. ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am, I…’

‘Stop. Just stop.’ She turned away from him. Roy looked over at Oliver, words failing him as he sees Oliver’s eyes turn hard, the wheels slowly turning behind them. ‘Oliver, I…I-‘

‘Get out.’ Oliver’s words were short, cold. Roy stared at him, eyes pleading forgiveness, ‘Leave, Roy!’ The older man bellowed at him causing Felicity to jump. Roy dropped his eyes and moved past Oliver, grabbing his hooded jacket and bow as he went.

 

The door clicked shut as the three of them stood in the center of the room. Felicity looked between Oliver and Laurel and sighed.

‘Oliver, a word?’

‘Yeah.’ The anger had left his voice now, replaced with a defeated, lifeless tone as he followed Felicity away from Laurel. ‘What is it?’

‘Oliver, Roy did not kill Sarah.’

‘What? You heard him say-’

‘He might believe that he killed her, but there’s no evidence, no motive, well, no real motive, well, at least I don’t think he would just because of that…’ She trailed off, tilting her head as she considered. Oliver glared at her.

‘Felicity! What do you mean?’

‘Oh! Uh, Roy, might have a little bit of a…crush on you.’

‘I know.’

‘Oh? You do?’ She stared at him. ‘Well, the only reason he thinks he killed Sarah was because he was jealous of her.’

‘Yeah, I figured that out.’

‘But that’s what’s he’s been dreaming about! Jealousy, desire, lust, it all manifests itself in dreams; I know, I’ve been there…Well, not the killing part.’

Oliver considered Felicity’s words, ‘Wait, how would you know?’

‘I…Seriously, Oliver?’ She sighed at him and carried on as if explaining something simple to a child, ‘So, Roy crushes on you, sees you with Sarah, gets jealous… you see?’

‘Yeah, I see it fine, I just don’t understand why he dreams about killing…her.’ He stops, a thought capturing his attention: those two cops, outside the bell tower. ‘Did he say how he killed her, in the dreams?’

‘Uh, yeah, he stabbed her with arrows.’

‘Of course. Damn it Roy.’ Oliver thanked a bewildered Felicity and walked back over to Laurel.

‘Well? Aren’t you going to go after him?’

‘Huh?’

‘I can’t call my father, and you promised me that you would…’

Oliver glared at her, ‘Would what Laurel? Kill him? We don’t know if he even did it. He doesn’t know! In fact, I know he didn’t.’ 

‘He confessed!’ 

‘He’s been having some seriously fucked up dreams the past few weeks! Who the hell knows what he thinks he’s done? He probably can’t even tell what’s real and what’s not!’

‘Goddamn it, Oliver! If you don’t deal with him, I’m telling my father.’ 

‘No. You’re not.’

‘What?’

‘I’ll deal with this, he’s my…sidekick, my responsibility. If he did kill Sarah,’ Oliver pauses for a minute, ‘if he killed her, then we deal with him.’ 

‘Fine, whatever. But I’m not dropping this. You better find Roy before I do.’ Oliver watches her with concern on his face as she storms out.

 

Roy stops driving as he hears Felicity’s directions to Oliver in his ear, she must have forgotten to remove him from their com channel. He pulled together the ends of the jacket and zipped them together, holstering the bow in the slot at the front of the bike. He knew Oliver was chasing a killer, a dangerous man, but one of them; a vigilante. Roy vaguely remembered some newspaper headlines from years ago when he was a kid, but dismissed it as Felicity reported the bad guy’s new position. It was much closer to Roy’s own location than Oliver’s. He could leave, just run away, and go to Central City, or Coast City, or even Gotham. But if he fled now, he’d be giving everything up, everything he had built with Oliver and Felicity and Diggle, all the memories he had and the good he’d done would be washed away by his disgrace if he didn’t face Oliver’s justice. Roy glances up as he sees the suspect’s vehicle roar by him. 

Decision time.

 

Oliver swore to himself as he approached the scene, a car had wrapped itself around the nearby lamppost; its occupants spilling out. He stared at Laurel as she was helped upright by a burly man. Oliver quickly switched focus away from her to further down the road where two hooded men are facing off against each other. Roy was obvious from his suit, while the other one must be the vigilante they were chasing. He jogs a bit forward as the two of them raise their weapons. 

Roy glances to the side, seeing Oliver standing a way off. He flicks his attention back to the killer. They pace slowly around each other, Roy watching carefully even as the other man taunts him.

‘So, that’s the great Arrow, huh? I expected more, but then if this is what he sends to take me out? Hahaha.’

‘He didn’t send me.' Roy shot back, 'And I’m not with him.’

‘Oh, abandoned you already, eh? That’s what they’ll do; take you in, tell you you’ve valuable, you’re good, you’re useful, but then at the first sign of trouble, he’ll toss you out. Throw you back into the abyss you crawled out of.’

‘He wouldn’t!’

‘He already has! You were nothing to him, just another weapon in his arsenal. Expendable.’ 

Roy growled at him, his bow forgotten as he charged the man, catching him by surprise, barrelling into his chest, knocking the air out of him. They crashed to the ground, Roy on top, fists curled and hammering into the man’s ribs. Roy pushed himself off the groaning body and reached for his bow, attached an arrow and pulled it up. He stopped, looking over at Oliver before lowering the weapon, opting for a swift punch to the temple, laying him out cold.

 

Oliver had drawn his bow as soon as the fight started, but hadn’t released for fear of hitting Roy. Now as the younger man approached him, he didn’t lower it, watching Roy walk towards him. Roy stopped as close to Oliver as he could, feeling the prick of the arrow’s sharp edge against his skin as he stood directly in front of the bow.

‘Do you believe me?’

‘Roy, you didn’t kill her. I know you didn’t, Red Arrow.’

‘You said the only person you’d ever kill would be Sarah’s killer. You promised. And he had a point.’

‘Who? Him?’ Oliver nods at the vigilante’s unconscious body behind them. ‘What point?’

‘I am your arsenal. I was a weapon when you found me, that’s all I’ve ever been.’

‘That’s not true. But, it could be.’

‘Huh?’

Oliver grinned, the smile flashing across his face. ‘That’s what we’ll call you: Arsenal.’

Roy shrugged, the arrow point digging a little deeper. ‘Does it matter what you call me? Don’t you have justice to deliver? She’s over there, waiting for it.’

‘I’m not, I’m not going to kill you.’

‘Oliver?’

‘Roy, I…’

Roy closed his eyes, bow held aloft in one hand, the other stretched out. ‘If you think its justice, do it.’

Oliver stared at him and slowly lowered the bow. ‘No. You didn’t kill her, I’m not killing you. But I don’t think we can be-‘

‘Don’t you abandon me!’ Roy stared at him with such raw emotion that Oliver felt overwhelmed, there was only one response he could muster.

‘Never.’ 

And then, suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore. None of it. It was as if they were the only two men left in the world, staring at each other, eyes filled with emotion. The young archer sighed in relief and turned to go, but Oliver reached over and grabbed Roy hugging him fiercely then, feeling his heart hammering beneath the red jacket. He pulled back and let the emotion take over, his normal defences falling away. Oliver leant in and kissed Roy, gently at first before it became more passionate, and then they couldn’t stop. Roy pressing hard against him, Oliver’s hands roaming all over the tight confines of the suit. 

 

Laurel slid to a halt as she watched them kiss, her jaw slackening in surprise, she had run towards them as soon as she saw Oliver raise his bow to Roy. She frowned before turning away. She couldn’t see this, not now. She didn’t want to. How could Oliver desecrate Sarah’s memory by kissing the man who killed her? Roy Harper was going to pay for her sister’s murder, even if that meant going through the Arrow...

 

The kiss went on for a few minutes, until finally Roy pushed Oliver back gently, their heads bowed, Oliver pressing against his forehead as they breathed heavily. Roy was in a whirlwind of emotion, the fear of being abandoned by Oliver, the dread of ending up like the other vigilante, but most of all the mixture of shock and relief after Oliver kissed him. He felt the older man put his hands against his neck, slipping them inside his hood, cradling the back of his head as it was gently tipped upwards.

‘I…’

‘Shush. Don’t say anything.’ Oliver whispered to him. So they stood there in silence, Oliver, not thinking, just feeling the steady pulse of Roy’s heartbeat under his fingertips, Roy basking in the warmth rolling off Oliver, content to stay there. Oliver opened his eyes as Roy did the same, they stared at each other, just feeling the connection between the two of them.

He could see in the younger man’s eyes all the emotion that had been pent up these last few weeks, the resurging memories from his time under the mirakuru. Somehow Oliver knew in his heart that it would always be them together; Oliver and Roy, Green Arrow and Arsenal.

End of Part One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot to say, firstly, Roy was somewhat OOC in the first part of the chapter, due to the fact that he had not slept in days. As anyone who has ever pulled consecutive all-nighters due to work/college/exams is aware, by the end of about 40 hours awake you kinda go crazy, almost like being drunk, eyes barely open, saying whatever comes naturally, just about making sense, maybe not at all! 
> 
> Also, I’ve changed the story around to make it fit better, leaving certain subplots out and making more characters important to really shift focus from Oliver to Oliver and Roy. And yes, there will be a part two, and three and four…basically as long as they keep Roy on the show and the momentum keeps going, I’ll keep writing! 
> 
> So, finally I just want to say thanks to everyone who’s read, commented and kudo’d, your support has been great! I’m going to upload a final chapter after this one, that’ll have all those little ideas I had for previous chapters, the variations and the alternate endings, just in case you want to read them too!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the alternative chapters, ideas, endings and twists for the story up to this point. Obviously keeping back the ideas I have for the next part. A little chaotic, but it might be enjoyable/interesting. Also. no corrections to spelling or grammar mistakes, mostly stream of consciousness stuff.

Alternatives, chapter ideas and branching paths:

Notes:

Part 9

It all started with the kiss that shouldn’t have happened; the flood of emotions unleashed from the act of desperation that caused Roy to just go for it! Weeks of anger pent up into an uncontrollable rage.

A moment of elation turns bittersweet as the sudden press of warm lips against the other. Eyes open in surprise to see the other’s squeezed shut.

Part 10

It all falls apart

Part 11

‘I’m back, but not for you, or her. But because you’re not the only one with a duty to this city!’

Oliver rejects him and he goes insane. AU where the mirakuru drives Roy somewhat insane and Oliver is his one constant until that collapses and cue rampage.

Question: Why does Roy remain clean shaven and smooth even when he’s out cold in the Arrowcave? Oliver shaves him carefully, guilty but alone, Felicity does a double take when she first sees him.

Part 10 Oliver’s guilt, Roy gets captured, Oliver tracks him down and frees him. You came for me, roy says as he pulls oliver close. No, roy. Stop. He mutters, resisting the questing touch of his sidekick. Whatever. I’m outta here. No, roy. You can’t just leave, we don’t know what happened to you in there

Didn’t expect to see you here roy, you ok?

Just need somewhere to stay, ok if I crash here?

Always. K turned aside, letting him in.

 

Since there’s been no big bad for Season three just yet, I’m holding onto ARGUS as possibilities if I need to manipulate Roy further.

Alternative Chapters:

Post mission shower: Oliver covered in blood after a particularly deadly encounter. Roy lingers near the shower: his desire all consuming, his hunger so close to being sated. Unwittingly he begins to rub his straining erection through his jeans and only stops when he hears Felicity’s questioning hello from the stairs of the base. He ducks out flushing at having been almost caught. She looks at him, there’s this look of pity mixed with confusion. She quickly makes the connection between Oliver in the shower and Roy’s sudden appearance. He just glares at her before she grabs his arm. ‘I know that look, Roy, I see it every day in the mirror when I think about him.’

‘You don’t know me.’

‘Thea told him everything. I overheard him talking on the phone. But…’

‘But what?’ He spat back venomously.

‘But I didn’t need to hear him speak to know the truth.’

He glared at her as she reached out to his arm tentatively. 

‘I know you’re gay.’

He turned to leave but she called out to him, ‘Wait Roy! It’s ok, I’m not-‘

‘How can it be ok? He must hate me.’

‘No…’

‘Whatever, I’m outta here.’

He shrugs her off and stalks quickly out of the club. He’s simultaneously aroused and scared. He never thought Oliver would know, but Felicity would undoubtedly tell him, right? He gets home but still can’t get the steamed up images of Oliver in the shower from his mind. He finds himself ceaselessly playing with himself until he sighs and pulls his phone towards him searching out the ‘k’s’.

Calls K again for a quick hookup, unexpectedly talk things out rather than just leaving.

Alternative Chapter start:

Oliver watched out of sight as Roy went straight towards the well-dressed man. He saw Roy embrace him and couldn’t stop the hiss of jealousy escape from his mouth.

Roy crossed his hands behind Kyle’s neck, holding him close, his nose pushing against the crook of his neck, breathing in his mild aftershave, feeling the man’s arms wrap around his middle. ‘mmh, missed you so much.’

Jealous Oliver. Jealous Oliver who doesn’t want to confront his feelings about Roy, doesn’t want to think about what it could mean, what it probably means. He hasn’t felt like this since high school, thought it was only a one time thing…

 

306 chapter start.

Hey roy, yeah, look, I gotta get out of the country for a while. Something big just went down in the Middle East, I gotta go deal with it.

Get out? Are you coming back?

Of course, look I know things haven’t been great lately, what with the crazy hours and your nightmares (not in the mood), but I promise everything will be different, when I get back. Ok?

Yeah, sure. I guess.

You be careful, Roy. I gotta go.

The call ends, beep, beep, beep. Yeah, I love you too.

Who was that?

Doesn’t matter, Oliver. Let’s go take out those drug lords.

After this chapter begin Kyle demise, not killed by Oliver, but killed in front of Roy, cue rage mode. After his death, Roy turns to Oliver, who has come to terms with his feelings, and comforts him. Beginning of the end. Mutual comfort: sarah, kyle.

 

Alternative Chapter idea:

Part 16: after Sarah’s death Oliver looks for comfort in Roy, knowing the younger man secretly lusts for him. For Oliver, it’s still nothing serious, stress relief, using roy, rather than anything else. He still sees himself as straight, this isn’t happening to him. He just needs it, that desperate need to get off, when jerking off doesn’t satisfy it, when drives you to anger you need it so bad, and Roy, pretty, lusting Roy, is standing there in those crazy tight pants, how can Oliver not? 

Surprising himself, roy pushes oliver away saying that he doesn’t want to. Oliver insists, pulling at him, but roy fights him, even as oliver begs, I know you want this roy, not like this. Oliver you’re not doing this because you like me, but cos sarah’s dead…

 

Post sarah death, given roy’s nightmare, possible to work in killing her in a fit of jealous rage after oliver rejects him, leads to comforting oliver and realisation of goals. Laurel attacks roy in misguided vengeance after 0306, roy’s realisation leads to rejecting oliver and kyle, wants to be alone, question remains as to who sarah’s killer is? Arsenal is born and rage flows again.

 

Roy dreams, Thea moves on, he guards her and they talk. She asks him about Kyle and other guys, even offers to set him. Oliver tells him that Corto Maltese was more about him getting a break than getting to Thea. Roy is a little hurt.

 

In Corto Maltese episode: Oliver to Roy, ‘don’t forget to put on sun cream, I can already see you burning up.’ ‘I made them from the stuff in our rooms.’ ‘is that why my bed was so uncomfortable? You took all the springs?!’

 

Alternative endings to various chapters: 

Chapter 20:

There was a moment where they look at each other, but the Oliver’s phone rings and he pulls it out. ‘felicity.’ Roy gets up and oliver follows. ‘damn, I’m sorry roy, I’ve to go.’ ‘yeah, thanks Oliver.’

Oliver leaves, as he does so Roy stops him, shyly asks for a hug. Oliver doesn’t quite hear him and Roy repeats, face blushing. But Oliver gives in, holding him tight as Roy closes his eyes and breathes in Oliver. And then he releases, Oliver nods and says ‘no problem.’

 

Chapter 16:

Roy barges into the Arrowcave to confront Oliver, he’s pissed, demanding to know what the fuck Oliver was thinking? Was he trying to kill an ARGUS agent? Has he lost his damn mind? Oliver tries to ignore him but Roy pursues until they’re back out in the alley staring at each other. Oliver tries to explain, tries to say how he feels, tries to get Roy to understand him, why he has him so crazy, eventually chickening out and saying it’s because he and Roy are friends now, the only connection to Thea he has left. But Roy doesn’t buy it, staring at him while he talks, wondering what the fuck is wrong with Oliver. Oliver changes tack and tries to say that he was only protecting Roy, that Kyle is dangerous, secretive, lying, gun wielding. Roy blanks him, justifying Kyle’s actions and saying that he might be secretive but at least he’s not insane. ‘don’t you feel that way, roy?’ ‘not the point oliver, you tried to kill my boyfriend! Do you even know what was in that gas? He’s lying in ICU right now ‘cos they don’t know how to keep his heart from stopping. If you really care about me, give me the recipe!’

‘I, I can’t.’

‘I thought you changed. You said that we don’t kill people. You spent the last year trying to teach me to control my anger, restrain myself with the suspects. And now you throw that all away because I happen to be with some guy you don’t like? Or are jealous? Or whatever?’ Roy notices Oliver grimace when he talks about being with Kyle, ‘Oh is that the problem, then? You have a problem with me being gay?’

‘What! No, of course not.’

‘Is it because I’m actually with a guy?’ Another wince, ‘It is, isn’t it? Well I’m sorry Oliver, if my being fucked by a really hot guy is a problem for you, but get over it! It’s not like I want you to do it!’ Lying through his teeth, blushing. Oliver wordlessly hands him the recipe and watches Roy’s retreating back, not quite sure what the hell was going on.


	23. The Hero's Prize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honour of getting over 9000 hits and it being over a year since I started this series, I’ve decided to add an additional chapter to this fic. In terms of the rest of the story this **didn’t happen** , just a fever dream in Roy’s confused and horny mind. So basically porn… But I always intended on writing this chapter in. At the time of finishing ‘In Love with the Wrong Queen,’ I had great momentum to go forward, but instead of giving resolution I gave angst. Glorious, Glorious angst! So without further ado, I present the night after the first kiss between Roy and Oliver. 
> 
> P.S. I might have gone overboard for AO3, Idk...

Roy led Oliver towards the back of the Arrowcave, to that section with the bed and the closed off room that no one else ever went. Oliver was nervous at first but that soon melted away as Roy kissed him, gentle pecks first, then harder and more frequent until they were kissing deeply, and Oliver was back on familiar ground. Roy leant in towards Oliver, as they began caressing each other, rubbing their hands over the other’s body, Roy’s hands trembling a little as he tracing the raised flesh of Oliver’s scars, before Oliver raises his fingers from the skin and takes Roy’s lips back into his own. Then they move closer together, Roy’s already hard, has been since the start, but Oliver’s just getting there now. And as they finish stripping the rest of their clothes off, Roy has just a moment to reflect on this, on the fact it’s finally happening. Oh sure he’s had Oliver before, but this time the older man will be a more than willing partner and then Roy can’t wait anymore. He reaches over and pulls himself flush with Oliver’s body, hands wrapped around his waist, just above his firm ass. And Roy smiles up at him, before kissing again. 

 

For Oliver’s part the sensation was new, different to the last time he had been intimate. For one thing it was Roy who was driving the sex now, not him and that caught Oliver off guard. But then, he reflected as Roy began to kneel down, working his mouth and lips and tongue down Oliver’s chest and stomach, Roy knows this stuff, he’s been here before, he understands what to do. So Oliver let Roy be in control and arched his head backwards as he felt the cool air touch his cock head as Roy pulled down his boxers, doing away with the last barrier that kept them apart. Oliver moaned loudly as Roy licked the head, his hands coming up naturally to cradle the man’s skull, the short black hair like bristles against his fingertips. And Oliver loves it, loves the short intervals between Roy licking up and down the shaft and the long moments when he teases him by sucking on the head. But then Roy would always increases his pleasure before Oliver could complain; take more than half of the thick shaft into his warm wet mouth, or dive down to lap at Oliver’s heavy balls (that feeling so unusual to him he almost shot his load right there), or finally when Oliver almost had enough of Roy’s teasing, testing gestures, when the younger man dove on top of his cock, devouring it all into his mouth. There was a tiny gag, before Roy began sucking in earnest, feeling Oliver’s body react to him, pushing against his lips, trying to get even more of his cock into that hot wet glory. Oliver moaned and shuddered, eyes almost closed as he rode the rising wave of euphoria to its inevitable climax. He didn’t have to whisper it though, Roy just seemed to know he was close and he pulled off, replacing his mouth with his fist, using his spit and pre-cum for lube as he worked Oliver’s thick straining cock. Roy looked up at him as Oliver began to shoot, watching as his face turned from mere pleasure to total ecstasy, feeling the warm cum shoot out of Oliver’s cock even as he didn’t slow his pace. And Oliver rode that train of feeling until he panted and pushed Roy’s hand away from his sensitive member. He looked down to see Roy covered in his cum and there was something so hot, so sexy, so dirty about the cream running down his lover’s chest that made Oliver reach out and grab Roy hard, pulling him in close as one hand grasped the man’s butt and the other cradled his neck. And Oliver kissed him, hard and passionate, enough to bruise his lips and leave his own tingly. Roy, spurred on by Oliver’s desire, grinded himself into the archer’s hard body, feeling the stickiness pass between them and not caring. Oliver continued to kiss him passionately, his tongue exploring all of Roy’s mouth, battling in a duel for control and losing to him. He felt Oliver’s hands roam over his back and neck, pulling him back towards if he jittered away, his rough hands feeling so right on his tight smooth cheeks. Even without realising it, Oliver massaged and squeezed Roy’s ass, opening and closing the cleft and driving Roy wild. Oliver’s cock came to life again and Roy pressed his own against it, feeling the thrill deep in his stomach as they continued to kiss and move against each other.

 

He broke away for just a moment to nod towards the bed. Oliver understood but didn’t reply, just dove back into Roy’s skilled mouth, loving the taste of the young archer’s tongue. Roy moaned against him as Oliver somehow managed to get his cock to rest under Roy’s ball sac and gloried in the press of his tight legs. But Roy wanted everything and he opened his legs a little wider before moving his hands onto Oliver’s shoulders. Securing his grip he pulled his feet from the floor and wrapped his legs around Oliver’s waist, the man’s cock now free to rub that golden line between balls and hole. Oliver gasped in surprise as Roy let his full weight on him, but responded by grabbing hold of his tightened ass and moving towards the bed. He collapsed on it, the springs singing as Roy laughed into his chest. Roy was on his back, legs open as Oliver stared down at him. He licked his lips and continued to kiss him, savouring that moment of hesitation as Roy turned away and allowed him to litter his prominent jawline with kisses. Roy moaned into him as Oliver found the special spot where his jaw met his ear and neck. He suckled greedily at it as Roy moaned and muttered and writhed beneath him, Oliver’s hands waltzing all over his tight smooth body. After a few minutes Roy was pushing at his head, and Oliver looked down to see the man’s cock drooling. He grinned at Roy and reached for it, slowly stroking the flesh and revelling in the sounds of pleasure coming from Roy’s parted lips. Oliver continued to jerk him off slowly, carefully, not wanting him to cum, just like Roy had done to him. And Oliver wanted to suck it, well wanted to give Roy the same pleasure, but he hesitated. Roy, feeling Oliver’s unease, reached out a hand to touch his face. ‘It’s ok, you don’t have to.’

‘I know, but you…’

‘There’s something else I want you to do.’ Roy replied with a devilish grin. Oliver frowned a moment before Roy leant over and fished a condom out of the inner pocket of his armour. ‘Always keep one on you!’ He said in reply to Oliver’s raised brows. ‘So…you got lube right?’ Oliver nodded and reached past Roy to root around in the locker beside the bed. He took out a tube and handed it to him.

‘Uh, here. Is it ok?’

Roy examined it for a moment and opened it, pushing a little onto his fingers, rolling it around. ‘Yeah. It’s fine. Not much use for it though?’

‘Yeah well.’

‘Haha, ok.’ Roy grinned at him and Oliver couldn’t resist smiling back. He settled back on the bed and reached behind him to grab a pillow, securing it under his ass to raise it up. He tossed the condom to Oliver and squeezed out a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. Roy looked up at the man kneeling in front of him as he lubed his eagerly pulsing hole, ready to finally accept the hero’s prize. He didn’t even need to think about anything else, Oliver’s slightly scared, slightly nervous, but totally horny expression gave him all the arousal he need as he pushed the first of his fingers inside him. Oliver casually played with his cock and Roy didn’t dare touch his own throbbing member, he was afraid he’d spurt just from this vision alone. He grunted a little as the second finger went in and closed his eyes as he started a rhythm: forward and back, push in and pull out, making a beckoning motion at the start to just widen the entrance enough. He could hear Oliver panting above him as he flicked his eyes open and pulled out his fingers. Roy didn’t have to say anything, Oliver had ripped open the condom and was rolling it down his thick hard cock as Roy shifted backwards, pulling his legs back to make it easier for Oliver. 

 

‘Just…go slow at first, ok?’ Oliver nodded and positioned himself at Roy’s ready entrance. He leaned forward, guiding his throbbing member to the heat, until the tip sunk in and he could begin pressing forward in earnest. He could see the mix of pain and pleasure on Roy’s face as he gasped and moaned and his lips parted in a silent cry of delight. Oliver stopped moving and Roy opened his eyes to find Oliver leaning forward, their foreheads almost touching. He leant up and caught the man’s lips in his and Oliver grunted before pulling back, easing his cock along Roy’s well lubed passage. He took it slow at first, like the archer had wanted, but could feel the desire to speed up fire inside his loins. He looked down as Roy reached up to run his hands across his chest and pecs, not even touching his own cock yet. And Oliver could see why, it pulsed and jumped every time he pulled out slowly and pushed in with a little more force. Roy began to moan and push himself against Oliver, urging him on, faster and harder until he was vocalising it. 

 

‘Ugh! Yeah, harder, Oliver! Faster! Come on, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Yeah like that! Mhhhmh! Go harder!’ And Oliver complied, pushing in faster and harder, not even caring at the sounds they were making as Roy’s voice rose and rose as he moaned and moved, impaling himself on Oliver’s hardness until he finally reached down to grab his cock and started jerking himself off, not even needing the lube to get started; his hands slipping over the shaft and head as Oliver continued to pound deeply into him. And for the second time Oliver felt the rush in his stomach as he rocked back and forth inside Roy’s tight ass. 

 

‘Uh! Roy! I’m…ah! Cumming! Oh yeah! Roy! I love you! I fucking love you!’ Roy looked at him then but saw Oliver was cresting, not even aware of what he was saying as he came. Roy felt Oliver’s cock finally start to batter his prostate and he gasped, pushing harder against Oliver, wanting more as he jerked off with wild abandon. He moaned Oliver’s name, countless times as they both came within seconds of each other, groaning and panting and sweating hard. Roy looked down to see his cock shooting forth, the thick streams of cum spiralling out onto his chest, his arms, the bed, he even felt the drip of the stuff down his face. ‘Fuck! That was so hot!’ He panted out as Oliver pulled out of him. ‘Ah! Easy Oliver.’ Oliver nodded at him and moved more slowly, before collapsing beside Roy, utterly spent. 

 

Roy turned over and looked at Oliver, a smile playing about his features as Oliver tried to get his breath back, recovering from what was simultaneously the hottest and most exhausting sex he’d ever had. Roy reached for the covers and pulled them over their bodies as he moved closer to Oliver, the older man accepting him into a slightly awkward embrace. Roy leant against the pillow, with his face resting against Oliver’s chest as he wrapped his arms around the young archer’s torso, pulling him closer, their legs intertwining, drifting off to sleep.

 

Roy Harper awoke with a start, feeling the familiar slippery wetness running down his leg. ‘Ah fuck, not again!’ Another wet dream, as if he wasn’t jacking off four times a day already. But this one had been good, so good. Intense and vivid and real, so real he could almost feel Oliver’s imagined hardness buried in his ass. He threw back the covers and got up, stripping his clothes off as he used his briefs to wipe up the mess. Just kissing Oliver, the Arrow, would be enough to make him cum, he got giddy inside thinking about it, but sucking him? Getting fucked by him? ‘Hah! In your dreams, Harper.’ Roy muttered to himself. ‘Always in love with the wrong Queen…’


End file.
